


Burn It Down [TF2/Pyro fic]

by teruukin



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Family Fluff, Found Family, Male Pyro, Team Bonding, engineer is a good dad, implied heavyxmedic, nvm theres gonna be angst, possible angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22505257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teruukin/pseuds/teruukin
Summary: Pyro scared people.That much was common knowledge to just about everyone but Pyro. Wherever he went, the gas mask he wore and the fire axe at his side seemed to worry people at best, and send them running or attacking at worst.Surely there was a reason for their fear - hell, if even his own teammates, including the unshakeable Heavy were wary of him, then he had to be dangerous.A story exploring the Pyro. His past, his relationships with his teammates, and his future.
Comments: 49
Kudos: 183





	1. Meet the Pyro

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I've decided to start writing fanfiction again after a few years (please don't go searching for my old stuff ;;) and I decided that the best place to start would be with TF2! I love this game a lot, and one of my favorite characters is the Pyro, because of how fun of a character he is and how creative you can get with him.  
> Please be aware that any information about the Pyro (or any character for that matter) that isn't directly confirmed by Valve is just my headcanon, and that I'm pretty much a beginner. I'm mostly just writing this to shake off some rust and have some fun.

Pyro scared people.  
That much was common knowledge to just about everyone but Pyro. Wherever he went, the gas mask he wore and the fire axe at his side seemed to worry people at best, and send them running or attacking at worst.  
Surely there was a reason for their fear - hell, if even his own teammates, including the unshakeable Heavy were wary of him, then he had to be dangerous.  
Well, Heavy and the rest of the team weren’t entirely wrong. Pyro was absolutely capable of being lethal. After all, with a flamethrower at his disposal and the nickname ‘Pyro’, it was kind of a given. But Pyro had never shown any sign of malice, at least not towards his own teammates. In fact, he seemed content keeping to himself when not in any kind of combat (something most of the other mercenaries were grateful for).

Recently, however, it seemed like Pyro had taken a liking to some of the other eight men. Most notably - and perhaps surprisingly - the Engineer, Dell Conagher.  
Nobody, not even Dell himself really understood why Pyro had latched on to him in the way that he did. The only reason he could think of was how calm he appeared out of combat, or his politeness towards the Pyro. Both were a far cry from the rest of the team. Scout was loud and rude, people like Spy and Sniper were calm but intimidating, and the rest of the team was just generally frightening in their own ways. Maybe it was just because Dell was the least frightening.  
Whatever the reason was, it didn’t really matter very much. What was understood was that Pyro always seemed excited to join Dell in his workshop, jumping at any chance he got. Most of the time, he just sat in the corner of the room with a pile of comic books and pillows dragged in from...somewhere. Dell never asked. But sometimes he would go over to the table where Dell worked on his projects and watch.

Dell didn’t mind. Pyro never messed with any of his tools, and could actually be pretty helpful. For as clueless as he appeared, he could remember what parts and tools were what, and as far as Dell knew, seemed to enjoy when he explained how one of his many machines worked.  
And that was exactly what was happening on this quiet morning. It was uncommon for there to be no work. No intelligence to capture, no other mercenaries to fight. It was relaxing, but after four years since their hire, the RED team couldn’t help but feel a bit restless with nothing to do. Dell was no exception and had decided to spend the morning in his workshop, playing with some of his machines. Like usual, Pyro had followed, and Dell hadn’t objected.  
Pyro had long since gotten bored of the other side of the room, though, and had carried over a small portion of his comics over, making a spot for himself at the table. It was unusually silent, with the only real noise being the turn of a page, a tool being used, or a breath being twisted into a deep wheeze from Pyro’s gas mask.  
It was calm.

“Pass me that wrench over there, boy,” Dell said, suddenly piercing the quiet without so much as looking up from a gutted teleporter. Pyro peered up from his comic book and inspected the table, grabbing the wrench from it and immediately placing it in Dell’s outstretched hand. 

“Much obliged.”  
A muffled voice coming from Pyro was the response. Dell was used to these once unintelligible mumblings and moved aside so Pyro could see the machinery whirring and ticking away.

“I’m just tinkerin’ with the teleporters,” He explained. “I’m thinkin’ maybe I can get em to charge faster.”  
Pyro’s face couldn’t be seen from inside the gas mask he always wore, but Dell could only assume he was interested as he tilted his head and leaned a little closer, presumably to get a better look.  
Pyro was like that. Even though he (for the most part) left others alone, he always looked at least a little interested in whatever they were doing. It was almost like he wanted to join in. Come to think of it, outside of combat, Pyro behaved more like a curious child than any mercenary Dell had met.  
What was the Pyro?

Dell glanced at him. He was staring intently at the teleporter, resting his head on his arms with a calm, relaxed disposition the Engineer had only ever seen him have when clicking a lighter or burning the morning newspaper. Even through the gas mask, he could feel a sense of genuine innocence and wonder coming from him. Without really thinking, he placed a hand on the Pyro’s head. It was meant as a casual, kind gesture, and to anyone else it most likely would have seemed that way. But, clearly Pyro didn’t see it like that. Because the second Dell’s gloved hand touched his mask, Pyro jumped up from his seat with what could only be interpreted as a yelp or a shout, sending tools, comics, and machine crashing to the ground. 

“My teleporter!” Dell cried, dropping to his knees to pick up the now-broken item. “Now, what’d you go and do a thing like that for?”

Pyro looked from Dell, to the wreck he’d caused, and then away from the scene entirely. Clasping his hands together and stiffening his stance. 

“I’m sorry…”

It was rare, but sometimes the muffled words Pyro tried to get through could just barely be understood. After a minute of gathering up broken bits and pieces, and mourning over the work lost, Dell gave him a tired smile. It took another few seconds for him to get up and place the teleporter on the table before he advanced towards him.

“That’s alright, son,” Dell said in a gentler tone, resting his hand cautiously on Pyro (his shoulder, this time, though he certainly hesitated). “I can rebuild just about anything, you know. But how about you help me pick up this mess?”  
Pyro practically leapt at the request, crouching down to start picking things up. Curiously, he completely ignored his own comics, even stepping on them in order to get to the Engineer’s tools and place them ever so carefully on the table. Dell glanced down at the now-trampled comic books, leaning down and picking them up one by one.

Once the floor was clean, and Pyro was keeping himself busy organizing Dell’s tools, Dell sat down and took a look at some of the covers of Pyro’s comic books.  
The first thing he noticed was that all of them were old. Really old. The most recent one was from 1960. The second thing he noticed was that he didn’t recognize a single title. The majority of them were just dime a dozen stories about obscure heroes or ditzy high school girls. Mediocre stories that could be found at any used bookstore for next to nothing. But clearly Pyro enjoyed them, because the pages were all worn and fading like someone had flipped through them a million times - well-loved, Dell decided. 

Pyro turned back to see him carefully separating the large stack of weathered comic books into piles, organizing by genre. It took a second for Dell to notice him, but when he did he patted the chair next to him.

“Come help me with this, you know these old things much better than me.”  
Pyro hesitated, hands still folded. But Dell didn’t give up, patting the chair again with a reassuring smile.

“Am I that scary?” He asked with a small chuckle. Pyro quickly shook his head and took a seat next to him. Dell held up one of the comics.

“Which pile?”

Pyro looked at them idly. Dell’s smile faltered for just a second.

“You can just point, if you like.”

Pyro nodded in understanding and pointed towards one of the smaller piles. Dell placed it on top, reaching for another book, but then paused.

“Pyro?”

Pyro looked to Dell, tilting his head like he was confused.

“That old gas mask...what’s the point? Why wear it when you ain’t on the battlefield? You know, we can’t understand a word you’re sayin’ when you got that thing on.”

As usual, Dell couldn’t tell what the hell Pyro’s expression was under the mask. He could only guess that it was one of surprise, or anger, or maybe it was blank. Actually, scratch that. Dell had absolutely no clue what was going through Pyro’s head, if anything was. A few seconds passed like this, with the two just looking at each other.

“Pyro?”

Before Dell could get any kind of response out of him, an alarm near the door went off, blaring through the workshop and startling both of them. Dell winced and covered an ear, glaring at the alarm like it owed him money.

“Shit...come on, son,” He ordered, quickly getting up and grabbing the hefty toolbox on the table. “Looks like we might have some work to do.”

Pyro jumped up and followed, eventually catching up to Dell and jogging side by side with him. On the way, he grabbed onto something laying outside the workshop - a homemade flamethrower. Pyro’s beloved weapon, which had destroyed and saved many men. He adored the thing, which was probably the only reason anybody hadn’t just thrown it away.  
The rest of the mercenaries were all preoccupied with loading the truck when they entered the room, except Scout, who hung out of the door with ease.

“Get movin’, we got a job at 2Fort,” He ordered the two before being unceremoniously pulled back into the passenger seat by a disgruntled looking Heavy. Dell sighed and turned to Pyro.

“Looks like I’ll need to grab a few things. Mind carryin’ this toolbox here to the truck for me?”

Pyro clapped his hands, taking the metal toolbox from Dell’s arms and cheerfully carrying it around to the back.  
There were a few people already sitting in the back of the van when he got there - Tavish, the team’s Demoman, and the team’s Spy. Nobody really knew his name, probably something French. Both men looked away the second Pyro appeared in their view, almost like they were afraid to make eye contact. Pyro watched them quietly for a minute, turning from one teammate to the other in a possible attempt to be noticed. Still, they pretended he just wasn’t there. Eventually, Pyro gave up and slid the toolbox into the truck, leaving them to whatever they’d been doing before. As he passed the front seat, he could swear that Heavy and Scout were doing the same thing.  
Oh well. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before.

Dell returned a minute or two later, this time beside the medic of the team, Dr. Ludwig. The man was dressed in a pristine lab coat and was carrying his favorite tool, a gun that could cure almost anything. Pyro liked the way it glowed.

“Well, I reckon that’s about everything we’ll need for this trip,” Dell said, hoisting an old guitar and a duffel bag higher on his shoulder. Pyro held out a hand, ready to take the bag as well, but Dell just smiled.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this one,” He assured him. “You just head into the truck, I’ll be right behind you.”  
Pyro hesitated, but eventually listened, stepping away from Dell and Dr. Ludwig.  
The truck had filled up a bit more by the time he got into it - Soldier and Sniper had joined them, as well as their belongings. Pyro knew the two remaining seats would be needed by Dell and Dr. Ludwig, and instead chose to sit on a few crates. He didn’t mind, though. He liked being up higher anyways - it let him swing his legs back and forth.  
But still, nobody spoke to Pyro. Probably best they didn’t. It wasn’t like Pyro would say anything back. But he watched them. He was good at that.  
After about five minutes, Dell and Medic finally made their way into the already-crowded truck. Dell had an odd look on his face. Why did he look upset? Did something happen? That was no good, Pyro decided. He’d have to figure out why Dell was so sad. But he couldn’t now. Eventually he would, though.  
The truck started moving, jostling everyone around. Pyro clutched the flamethrower a little closer as Dell reached out and pulled down the door, enveloping the small area in darkness. 

Next stop: 2Fort.


	2. 2Fort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> So I made a bit of an error in the first chapter. Somehow, I managed to confuse Dustbowl with 2Fort. By the time you see this chapter, it'll be fixed. But that's my bad! I'll try to pay more attention to errors like that next time!  
> Reception on the first chapter was really good! I'm glad people seem to like what I've written. I hope I can keep making content that people enjoy :]

Everyone could tell Pyro was getting bored.  
It had been this way for a while now - he’d been alright for the first hour or so, happy to just watch the others keep themselves entertained. But one hour turned into two, and two hours was quickly turning into three. And with every passing minute, Pyro became more and more restless until finally he could barely sit still.

“How long have we been driving?”

Dr. Ludwig broke the silence. His tone was flat and bored, which was understandable considering that seven of the nine mercenaries had been sitting in the same cramped space for who knows how long.  
The Spy pulled up his sleeve, glancing down at a fancy looking wristwatch.

“I would say exactly two hours and forty-seven minutes.”

Nobody was happy about that, judging by the groans of displeasure that resulted from it. What none of them mentioned, however, was the tension quickly mounting in the stifling area. Everyone was at least acutely aware that Pyro was getting fidgety. Tapping the heels of his feet against the crate, shifting around every other minute. The mercs were starting to look a little bit nervous. After all, Pyro’s idea of a good time was to burn anything that was in reach and flammable. It didn’t matter what it was - paper, clothing, or flesh.  
And with that clunky old flamethrower in his arms, he was more than capable of doing exactly that. Though he hadn’t yet attempted to light up any of his teammates, nobody was particularly anxious to find out if he would.

Only Spy was completely and totally unperturbed by Pyro’s restlessness. Well, Dell wasn’t worried either. But while Spy just ignored him entirely, Dell glanced back at him every so often, seemingly checking on him. If only he’d remembered to bring one or two of those comics that had been lying on the table.  
But he hadn’t, and with no other ideas on how to get Pyro to settle down, they’d just have to endure it, and Pyro would just have to continue being bored until they got there. As soon as they did, Dell assured himself, the boy would be just fine.  
With that thought settled, Dell once again started plucking carelessly at the strings of his old acoustic guitar. The sound was soft, calming, and while it didn’t completely relieve the tension, it certainly helped. That was, until Spy pulled out a lighter, putting a cigarette to his lips. As he clicked it, the tiny flame illuminated the dark space for just a second or two.

“Spy!” Dr. Ludwig half-whispered.

“What?”

The medic pointed to the crates where Pyro sat. With their eyes no longer used to the dark, it took a second, but after that, his silhouette became clear. He was staring directly at Spy, or more specifically, the lighter still in his hand. Spy raised an eyebrow, though his expression didn’t change beyond that.

“Pyro?” He asked. Pyro snapped to attention, switching his gaze to the Spy’s face. It only served to make him more uncomfortable. Spy was hesitant, but held the lighter out to him after a moment or two.

“Er...did you...want to borrow it?”

Pyro’s response was quick. He practically snatched it out of Spy’s palm, nearly dropping his flamethrower in the process. Before anyone could react, the back of the truck was once again bathed in soft, dim light. 

Click.  
Click.  
Click.

Okay, so sure, the sound was annoying. But the tradeoff was more than fair - Pyro was happy, and everyone else was calming down, since it looked like he wouldn’t be charring any of them for the time being. Dell grinned.

“Well, would you look like that, turncoat, you finally did somethin’ helpful,” he teased in a jovial tone. Spy rolled his eyes and checked his watch again, not responding to the jab. But for whatever reason (probably being thoroughly drunk), Demoman thought that Dell’s half insult was the pinnacle of comedy, bursting into merry, inebriated laughter. It didn’t seem to help Spy’s mood, but Soldier soon joined in. He probably didn’t know why they were laughing, but Soldier was Soldier. It didn’t matter to him. Even Sniper managed to crack a smile, though if you’d blinked you might have missed it.

Pyro, however, was entirely unaware of any of it. He was content watching the little flame dance around. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed; he just didn’t care. 

The next hour was much more relaxing, with all the anxious tension dwindling quickly. Demoman and Soldier had struck up a conversation and were chatting away amicably. Pyro was happy with his lighter, and Dell had been calmly strumming a nondescript tune for the past little while. Eventually the truck screeched to a halt, shaking a bit as Scout and Heavy left the front seat. 

“Looks like we’re here,” Dell remarked, standing up and pushing the door to the back open. Both of the other men were there to retrieve their weapons from the back.

“Come on, keep it movin’,” Scout complained. “I don’t have time to wait on you dumbasses.” 

One by one, the mercs left the truck - Dell a calm and straightforward step, Tavish a swaying stumble, and Pyro an upbeat hop. All holding weapons that would make any citizen tremble, all of them casual as can be. Finally Scout and Heavy were able to grab their own guns and joined the rest of the group.

Even from the distance, the RED team could see their doppelgangers; the BLU team. Pyro was bouncing on his toes, holding his beloved flamethrower close to him. 

“Excited?” Dell asked him, chuckling. Pyro turned to him, nodding. 

“Well, we’ve got a little time before the fighting starts. So try and save that energy til’ then, okay?”

Pyro tried to say something. As usual, it was muffled and incoherent. But it was happy, judging by the tone. Dell hoisted his toolbox onto his shoulder and gestured for everyone to follow. 

“C’mon boys, we’re wastin’ daylight,” He called. 

It didn’t take long for them to make their way into one of the RED buildings, stocking up on ammo and medicine. They were preparing quietly, but Pyro didn’t seem interested in doing so. He just carried around his flamethrower, glancing around the area. At one point, he waved out the window - he’d noticed one of the BLU team’s members. Dell had long since left the building, setting up a sentry and teleporter near BLU’s base. So, as was typical, Pyro was alone. He was okay though. Soon the Administrator’s sharp voice would echo throughout the entirety of 2Fort, counting down until he could go, run and play with his beloved fire. It always made him happy - fire was just...fun! And it wasn’t fair to just keep the fire to himself all the time; he wanted to share it with people. 

“Mission begins in sixty seconds.”

Pyro jumped to attention, looking out the window. His entire team had run off, preparing to attack. Oh! He should go with them! Running to follow the other mercs, he soon found himself standing next to Scout. He was crouched down, holding his scattergun in a defensive position. When he turned to see Pyro, he was startled for a second, but that momentary fear quickly turned to annoyance.

“Pyro, get the hell outta here!” Scout whisper-yelled. Pyro tilted his head. Why? Weren’t they teammates? 

“I want to help!” Pyro protested. But...of course. His voice came out a muffled nothing. Scout huffed angrily.

“I SAID, get the hell out of here! Frickin’ moron!”

...Okay. Pyro nodded and just ran off. Scout had never been the nicest, so he couldn’t pretend to be hurt. He was used to Scout being rude. He was okay.

He was too far away from any other mercs to try and help them either, so Pyro decided to just find a spot for himself instead. 

“Mission begins in ten seconds.”

Did Pyro miss the thirty-second mark? He must have. Oh well. No big deal. 

“Five…”  
“Four…”  
“Three…”  
“Two…!”  
“One…!”

Pyro didn’t even wait for the Administrator to snap at the two teams to start fighting. He just went for it. It didn’t take very long for a BLU soldier to see him wandering around, a confident smirk on his face as he ran towards him. To him, Pyro must have seemed an easy target - bumbling around carelessly. A free kill. But as he shot a rocket directly towards him, Pyro turned, a gust of compressed air coming from the flamethrower’s spout. Before he could even react, the BLU soldier was knocked to the ground as his own rocket hit him, his coat bloodied and his eyes wide. He still tried to get up, pointing the rocket launcher at Pyro. But Pyro just smiled from behind that gas mask of his and walked away. The soldier tried to chase him, but a sticky from a Demoman made quick work of the rest of him. Pyro didn’t even notice.

The next person to try anything wasn’t until a little while later - this time, an enemy scout. They looked cocky and overconfident, not unlike his own scout.   
Pyro had to dodge a bullet or two, but...then he pointed the flamethrower at the scout and squeezed the trigger.

This.  
This was what Pyro loved. The air from the spout immediately blossoming into barely manageable flames, sticking to clothes, to body parts, to everything. Pyro could hear laughter coming from the scout, but just barely. He was more interested in the flames.  
Pyro really did love fire. It had offered him color, freedom, and so many other wonderful things.

It continued like this for the entire match. To his teammates and enemies, it must have been a horrifying sight. He ran around 2Fort with glee, blasting air at or burning everything in his path. Buildings and BLU team members crumbled under the heat of the flames, but Pyro just continued on like he’d done absolutely nothing, ignoring screams and cries for help. He might have even started laughing at one point. Yes, there truly was a reason for his teammates to fear him. Because in this moment, Pyro was capable, motivated, and most importantly, absolutely lethal.

He didn’t know what he was doing was killing people. He didn’t understand. It really didn’t matter, at least not to the people who had sent RED to fight in the first place. He was utterly and completely fixated on the fire, his color.

“Victory…” The Administrator’s cold voice crept across 2Fort. Regardless of how chilling she sounded, the RED team began to celebrate yet another win. The remaining BLU members, bloodied and beaten, could only back away in fear as they did. Luckily for them, they managed to get far away enough to not face the victors. 

But then the buildings started collapsing. The RED mercs, hearing the sound of crumbling wood and stone, stopped their party long enough to take a look at their surroundings.  
A fire. One of incomprehensible size, and one that was quickly consuming everything around them.

“What the hell?!” Scout cried, eyes wide with horror. 

Dr. Ludwig didn’t look any better.

“I had a feeling zhis could happen...but… zhis is…”

Heavy managed to lift up Dr. Ludwig, turning to Scout. 

“We have already won, we do not need to stay. You are quick, run to truck!” He cried, starting to book it in the direction of said truck. Scout started to follow, but it didn’t matter how fast he could run; the smoke was quickly overwhelming 2Fort, obscuring everything in front of him. Soon he wasn’t even sure which way was which.

Across the map, Dell was watching from his sentry base with a satisfied smile as the BLU mercs ran off with their tails between their legs.

“Y’all come back now!” He taunted, leaning back in his seat. It earned a murderous look from the team’s Scout, which just sent Dell into a fit of laughter. His moment was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder, though. He turned his body towards them with shotgun in hand, expecting a BLU member bitter about the loss, but instead was greeted with the Pyro. Happy as could be, with almost every building in 2Fort burning down behind him.

Dell’s eyes widened in surprise. He smiled nervously, stood up, and stepped away from the approaching flames.  
How was he not dead? How had he managed all...of this? Oh, god, if they didn’t run, they’d die.  
Pyro stood there, waiting for him to say something. Expressionless. Head tilted. It was almost hard to believe that this person had caused the carnage. But here he was in front of Dell. Flamethrower in hand, blood dripping from the fire axe pinned to his belt. Dell forced himself to calm down and look Pyro in the...eye?

“Good work, son, we got em good this time,” He assured him in a soft tone, careful to not show his fear. “But let’s get out of here before we burn up.”  
Pyro clasped his hands together, swaying around in a gentle, dreamy fashion. Not even making an attempt to run from the fire. Dell packed up his dispenser, teleporter, and sentry in record time, picking up the toolbox and grabbing him by the wrist.

The pair started out walking quickly, but as Dell tried to lead Pyro through the burning wreckage, it became clear they wouldn’t be able to just walk. So he sped up. Jogging, then running, then sprinting. All while carrying his toolbox and dragging Pyro behind him.   
Suddenly, Pyro dug his heels into the ground, refusing to go any further. Dell was forced to stop, turning around and letting go of his gloved hand.

“What in Sam Hill are you-”

The Pyro was crouched in front of a pile of rubble, pulling on someone’s hands. Bandaged hands. Dell realized quickly what was happening and ran to join him.  
Scout laid there, expression twisted into one of fear, as Pyro tried to release him from the charred rubble. 

“Get the hell away from me!” He shouted. Or, at least, as best he could, as the smoke caused him to practically hack up his lung. Dell crouched in front of him.

“Calm down, we’re gonna get you outta there! The truck ain’t far.”

Dell started digging through the wood and metal pinning Scout to the ground, tearing away pieces as Pyro continued to attempt to pull him out. Meanwhile, Scout protested, trying to pull his hands away from Pyro’s.

Dell’s hands were trained to be precise and careful. As an engineer, they had to be. But even so, they trembled as he pulled wooden boards, sheets of metal, and stone from the pile. Even with callouses having built up from years of tinkering and using tools, the debris cut into and scraped them until finally, finally, Pyro just barely managed to drag Scout from underneath the rubble. At this point, the normally energetic and cocky man was barely conscious - so much smoke was quickly taking its toll on him. Dell stood up and watched as Pyro hoisted up Scout on his shoulder. 

Dell sighed with relief, grabbing Pyro’s wrist again and starting towards the truck. He could just barely see it, and nearby, the silhouettes of his teammates. Closer, just a little closer.  
Coughing and hacking, Dell forced himself those last few steps, until fresh air entered his lungs and he could see the truck clearly.  
It looked like everyone had made it out of the blaze safely. Soldier, Demoman, and Sniper looked fine, if a bit singed. Spy looked out of breath, as though he’d just arrived, but Heavy and Dr. Ludwig were sitting at the end of the truck, facing 2Fort as though they were waiting.

“Engineer!” Spy called to him as the trio emerged from the smoke. “Have you seen-”

His voice caught in his throat as he saw Pyro and Scout behind the Engineer. Dr. Ludwig peered up from his medi gun, and upon seeing the now-unconscious Scout, stood up from his spot next to Heavy (who followed suit)

“Let me see.” He demanded as he reached them. Pyro immediately, and carefully moved Scout, helping Heavy take him. Dr. Ludwig looked him over, clicking the pieces of the medi gun into place. 

“Doctor, are you sure now is the time?” Heavy asked. Dr. Ludwig didn’t look up from Scout, as he flicked the machine’s switch.

“Well, dear, considering the boy may die if he isn’t healed quickly, I would say yes.”

It was only then that Dell realized just how injured Scout was. His body was burned pretty bad, and his legs were most likely broken, but a few seconds under Dr. Ludwig’s medi gun changed that. As the burns and wounds healed, Scout sighed and relaxed a bit.

“Dieu merci…” Spy breathed out in a barely audible murmur.

“He’ll be fine,” Dr. Ludwig said, turning the gun off. “Engineer, are you injured?” He asked, not paying much attention to Pyro. 

“Nah, I’m alright, doc.”

Dr. Ludwig just nodded in response.

“We are very lucky,” He declared. “For everyone here to escape such a blaze is very unlikely, and mostly unharmed as well.”

Demoman scoffed, lifting up the bottle in his hand threateningly.

“Aye, we wouldn’ta HAD to escape if it weren’t for that mumblin’ devil!” He slurred, pointing it at the Pyro.  
Pyro jolted, turning his head towards the Demoman. He didn’t respond - he rarely did. 

“Now, let’s not fight about it. We’re all safe, after all.” Dell chided. “Let’s just get back to the base. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell that I sit near that psychotic arsonist.”

“Ugh, god damn...fine, you can sit up front.” Dell turned his gaze to Heavy. “Would you be alright with that?”

“As long as we get to leave,” Heavy said, taking another somewhat worried glance at the still-burning fire. Demoman grumbled under his breath, but started loading his gear into the truck, so Dell could only assume that it was decided.

“That’s that, then,” He maintained. “Pyro, you go on and get in. Unless anybody else has somethin’ to say?”

Taking one look at the team, it was clear that there were a few who wished to object. But no one said anything. Engineer was starting to look annoyed, and despite his usually gentle demeanor, he could be a real headache when he was angry. Pyro stayed where he was. Instead of getting in the truck, he turned around, gazing at the uncontrollable flames.

“Pyro? Come on, we’re leavin’.”

“Tch...admiring your handiwork, boy?” Spy sneered. “Get in. I have no desire to be in that cramped truck either.”

Pyro clasped his hands together, looking down at his feet and shuffling them. 

“Come on, son. The sooner we get in, the sooner we can forget about all this ever happening.”

Though he was still reluctant, Pyro eventually started climbing into the truck alongside the other members. Heavy and Dr. Ludwig helped to carry the still-unconscious Scout into the back, resting him down on one of the benches. Pyro took his seat on the crates at first, but Dell didn’t really like the idea of him sitting alone. Yes, it’d be nice to keep an eye on him after all that, but that wasn’t the only reason. After the verbal lashing from Demoman and Spy, his posture was more slouched, as though he was trying to become smaller and shrink out of sight.

Pyro wasn’t like them. Dell had pieced it together when he saw him in Dustbowl. He wasn’t all there.  
Well, that was obvious. Nobody in the team was, and this included Dell himself. But this was different. Even in front of what should have been certain death, Pyro was happy as a clam, twirling around and dawdling like...a child.  
It had hit the Engineer like a ton of bricks. His mannerisms, the little quirks that made him Pyro, they were that of a young child. And now he was sitting alone, being avoided by everyone. Even Dr. Ludwig was staying a safe distance away. Did he know? 

“How about you let Soldier sit over there,” He suggested. “Come sit here, Pyro. Next to me.”  
Pyro turned to him, perking up. He scooted forward to get off of the crate pile, but then paused.

“Wait, who said I was gonna sit on some crates?!”

Engineer thought for a second.

“Well, didn’t you fight in World War Two? I would have thought a battle-hardened soldier like you would have been through much more than sitting on some little ol’ crates.”

“Of course I have!” Soldier roared, already standing up to take Pyro’s place. “To be able to sit on crates would have been a luxury in the trenches!”

“Come on, boy, ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of,” Dell gently encouraged Pyro.

He soon relented and sat next to him, placing his hands in his lap and twiddling his thumbs nervously. As the truck started to move once more, Dell pulled out his (now slightly charred) guitar out and began to tune it. When he began to play a minute or two later, Pyro tilted his head up, resting it against the metal wall. Nobody could see it, but behind the mask, he closed his eyes. He could be at ease. After all, like Engie had said, once they got to the base they could forget about all of it. He hadn’t meant to get Scout hurt. But the fire had been pretty. And it had been so much fun, running through 2Fort. 

Either way, nobody on his team seemed really happy with his fire. It kind of made him sad. But as they drove farther and farther away from 2Fort and the fire, Pyro felt the sadness and uneasiness dissipate as Engie’s music wrapped around the small cabin.

Yeah. It would be okay.


	3. Kindling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> So sorry I didn't update for so long! I got a bit distracted with things, and I wanted to take the time to reread a book that I think would help me write the characters a bit better. Thanks for being patient!  
> That being said, once again reception to the last chapter was great! It's really nice to know people like TF2 and Pyro just as much as I do :]

It took almost two hours for Scout to start to stir.

“I think he’s wakin’ up,” Dell noted, putting his guitar down. He’d been playing pretty much since they left 2Fort. His hands hurt like hell, especially after he’d cut and scraped them digging Scout out. But it kept Pyro happy, and after the fire, nobody really wanted him playing with Spy’s lighter. Dell included.

Dr. Ludwig peered down at Scout and adjusted his glasses. He was smiling in a way that could have been an attempt at being comforting, but came off more as creepy.

“Velcome back,” he said calmly. 

Lifting his head from the cold metal bench, Scout looked around at his surroundings as he rubbed the side of his head.

“Hey, uh, how long was I out…?” He groaned.

“Not long enough,” Spy replied promptly, not bothering to look down at him.

“Go to hell.”

“We almost did,” Soldier added. 

“Oh yeah, the fire…”

“According to Engineer, you got trapped under some falling debris. You’re a lucky man - he and Pyro barely managed to find you in time,” Medic explained further, moving his hands about casually as though it was normal to almost die. Well, to them it was, but that was besides the point.

“Yeah, thanks egghead. Wait, hold on...how the hell did a fire get goin’ in the first place?”

The mercs looked uncomfortably at one another, and then at Pyro. He was mostly unaware of the situation - now that he knew that Scout was okay, he wasn’t interested in the conversation anymore and had gone back to clicking at Spy’s lighter (seriously, why hadn’t he just taken it back?).  
Scout followed their eyes as he waited for an answer, but when they finally landed on Pyro, his expression twisted into one of rage.

“YOU!” 

Pyro looked up to see Scout charging towards him with what could only be described as murderous intent. 

“I’m gonna kill you!” He lunged at him, but was just barely held back by a nervous-looking Dr. Ludwig as Dell threw an arm across Pyro’s chest.

“Please calm down!” The doctor exclaimed, using just about all of his strength to try and keep the young man contained. 

“Calm DOWN? Are you outta your mind?!” Scout snapped, struggling against Dr. Ludwig’s grasp. “That freak nearly got me KILLED!”

Pyro looked the way he always did. Expressionless. But as Scout continued to try and escape Dr. Ludwig, the wheezing coming from his mask became louder. Faster. His body was stiff, like he was preparing to attempt an escape of his own. Dell turned to him. It almost startled him - even though he couldn’t see past the mask, he could tell that Pyro was afraid.

Had Pyro ever been afraid? It was a stupid question. But Dell had to ask himself. He’d never seen him that way. He’d been sad, hesitant, but never outright scared. Or maybe, Dell thought, he had been, but had never shown it. It wasn’t like he could.

“Don’t you mind him, Pyro,” He said softly. “You’re fine.”

Pyro nodded in response, though he didn’t seem too convinced. Dell sighed and turned back to the scene.

“Why the hell are you defendin’ him?!” Scout demanded, still kicking and struggling.

“I’d actually like to know that as well,” Spy replied coldly, looking to Dell. “He nearly got us ALL killed.”

Neither Dell nor Dr. Ludwig responded to them.

“Can someone else take him?!” The doctor practically begged. Dell stood up, dusting himself off and taking Scout by both arms. Though he was much shorter than him, he had much more strength than the frail doctor. Dr. Ludwig sighed in relief and fell back onto the bench.

“That’s enough,” The engineer maintained in a steely tone. “Sit down, boy.”

Scout reluctantly gave in as Dell released him, slumping against the wall. But he didn’t give up on his anger. He glared at Pyro, with a startling malice in his eyes that Dell could only describe as hatred.  
The truth was, Dell didn’t blame Spy, or Scout, or Demoman for their anger towards Pyro. He couldn’t. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, Dell was sure of that now. But regardless, he had caused a disaster that, had it been just a little worse or noticed just a minute later, could have killed all of them. Scout had nearly died, and it was just dumb luck that he’d survived. 

He glanced over at Dr. Ludwig. He was massaging his arms after Scout’s outburst, his glasses slightly askew. Dell noticed, however, that he was occasionally glancing over at Pyro. He could count on one hand the times that the madman had actually given enough of a damn to protect someone other than a dove or a self-described specimen. Why Pyro?

Before he could get far with this question, his train of thought was stopped in its tracks as the truck swerved, then sputtered to a stop. 

“What the hell?!” Demoman’s voice came from the front. It was followed by more colorful language, all spoken in a slurred shout. They couldn’t hear what was said next, but judging by the deepness, it was clearly Heavy’s voice. Soon enough, the back of the truck opened up. Heavy and Demo stood there, both with frustrated expressions.

“What on earth is going on?” Dell asked. “We still got a long way to go.”

“Truck will not start,” Heavy explained. “We came to get you.”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Dell stood up and picked up his toolbox. “Alright, I’ll take a look. Pyro, you come with me.”

He didn’t trust Scout to not try and attack him again, nor did he trust Dr. Ludwig to stop him this time. Pyro scooted off the bench and jumped out with Dell, following him silently to the front.  
The rest of the mercs soon exited the truck as well. After all, a chance to stretch their legs probably wouldn’t be turned down.

The landscape they’d found themselves in was, well, a forest, though the scrawny, cone-like trees didn’t do much to stop the sun from beating down on the mercs. Dell could hear running water nearby, and the occasional bird.   
As he threw down his toolbox and popped the hood, Pyro took his spot next to him. He watched as the engineer squinted at the mechanics. Dell held out his hand, assuming the role they were so used to now.

“Hand me that flashlight,” He requested. Pyro picked it up and handed it to him with a muffled remark.

Dell smiled. Pyro was already more relaxed. That was good, not just for him. When Pyro was calm, it was admittedly a lot easier to be calm as well. That feeling was probably similar for everyone on the team.   
Little by little, their teammates started to gather around them. Dell could feel eyes on him and wondered if Pyro had noticed as well, or if he even cared.

“Well? Can you get the damn thing working?” Scout spat. “I wanna get back.”

Dell waited a minute before turning to his team. Half appeared impatient, but the rest just looked worried.

“It looks like the engine’s busted,” he said. “But the good news is, I can get it fixed in just a couple hours. Pyro, can you get the car parts out from the back?”

“Uh, about that,” Scout interjected, just as Pyro was about to step away to retrieve the parts. 

“What did you do?” Heavy demanded. 

“I didn’t do nothin’! Well, not nothin’,” Scout shrugged, taking a step or two back. “I mighta moved the car parts...out of the car…”

“What?!” Dell cried. 

“Well, it was a real tight squeeze, so I figured I’d get rid of some of the less important stuff.”

“How are car parts not important?!” 

Dell pushed up his goggles and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. His brow furrowed as his thoughts started to collide with one another and he raced to figure out a solution. They certainly couldn’t walk back - well, it was an option, but not one that anyone would easily agree to. Then there was the matter of the truck itself, as well as their weapons.  
As his head started to spin, he noticed the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes once again and turned his head, only to recognize Pyro’s glove. Following the hand to its owner, he saw that it was in fact Pyro, head tilted and other hand clenched into a fist against his own chest.

Dell forced a smile. “Don’t you worry about me, son,” he assured him. “I’m alright.”

Pyro shook his head, muffled sounds of protest just barely making their way through his mask. 

Before Dell could respond (or try to), Sniper passed him, sliding into the front seat of the truck.

“What are you doin’?” He asked. Sniper didn’t respond and instead faced the small screen in the middle of the dashboard, pressing a button on the panel.

“Hey, I was just about to call.”

A female voice came from the speaker, and the face of a dark-haired, bespectacled woman flickered onto the screen. Ms. Pauling - The Administrator’s assistant, and the one that had bailed the RED team out of more situations than anyone could remember. How had Dell not considered asking her for help? 

“Oh, Sniper.” She sounded surprised. “I heard about the fire at 2Fort. Everyone alright?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly? What does that....? Nevermind. How’d it go?”

“Hello, Ms. Pauling!” Soldier chimed in. 

“Hi, Soldier.”

Everyone crowded around the front seat, focusing on the little screen.

“It went fine,” Sniper continued. “Until that creepy bugger over there set everything ablaze.”

He snuck a dirty glance at Pyro, who turned his head away.

“Um...alright. So why’d you call, then?” 

It was at this moment that Dell interrupted.

“Maam, we’ve run into a bit of an issue with the truck. And, uh, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to fix it anytime soon.”

“Wait, really?” Miss Pauling went quiet for a second. On the screen, Dell could see her flipping through a notepad.

“Um, so here’s the thing. I’m gonna be really busy for the rest of the day And...night, actually. But if you can hang on until tomorrow morning, I can drive over there and bring you guys back to the base.”

Dell breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks, miss,” Sniper replied. “It’s appreciated.”

“Yeah, no problem. I gotta go for now, though, so I’ll see you in the morning. Good work, by the way.”

The screen went black with a small click. 

“Well, y’all, it looks like we’d better get a camp going.”

“Really?” Scout raised an eyebrow. “What good is that gonna do?”

“You got anything better?”

“Well, no, but…”

“It’s settled, then.” Dell clapped his hands once. “Y’all go on, I’m gonna put up the tools.”

Though nobody seemed thrilled about the idea, none of them seemed to have any other ideas on what to do. Certainly they didn’t want to stay in the truck. So they started to spread out, going deep enough into the woods that Engineer couldn’t see them. That is, except Pyro. He stood by the front seat, watching Dell.

“Go on, son,” Dell insisted. “We’re gonna need firewood, after all. You’ve got the axe.”

Pyro nodded, seeming to perk up at the mention of firewood. He started to follow the rest of RED into the woods. When Dell was absolutely certain that his teammates were out of earshot, he pressed the button that Sniper had.

“Yeah?” Miss Pauling’s face appeared on the little screen again. “Try and make it quick, I’ve gotta get back to work.”

“Sorry to bother you, Miss Pauling,” Dell began, “But...I had to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Well, I’ve just been wondering...about Pyro.”

A moment of silence.

“...What about him?”

Dell hadn’t thought about that. What did he know about him? What did he want to know? What would Miss Pauling tell him?

“Everything.”

Miss Pauling sighed.

“Engie, you of all people should know I can’t tell you personal info.”

“Then what can you?” He insisted.

Miss Pauling looked away from the camera. 

“What’s with the sudden interest?” She asked. After a second, Dell could tell she was looking through a stack of papers. “Pyro’s like...the last person I’d expect you to mention.”

“You’re answerin’ a question with another one, miss.”

“Answer it or I’m ending the call.”

It was Dell’s turn to go quiet.

“He’s just a kid,” He finally said. “Crazy as a bedbug, maybe, but he’s a kid. Ain’t he?”

“...Yeah, pretty much,” Miss Pauling said. “At least, he thinks he is. I can’t answer too much more than that. Truth is, I’m not really sure what it is. If he has something, that is. Probably something related to his trauma.”

“Trauma?”

“Listen, I’ve really got to go,” Miss Pauling said quickly. “I’m sorry. I’ll see you in the morning. Maybe we can talk then, if you’re really set on it.”

“Hey, now just hold on a minute-”

-click-

“Goddammit…” Dell grumbled, leaning back in his seat. He couldn’t blame Miss Pauling for not telling him. But god, was it frustrating. To mention something like trauma and then just up and leave.

Trauma.  
The word rang in his ears, repeating enough to drive a man insane. It made sense, of course it did. But it had never occurred to him that Pyro’s more worrying behaviors might be the effect of something happening to him.  
What happened to him? 

“Mmph?”

Dell looked to his left, seeing that Pyro had returned. In his arms was a collection of logs and sticks. The engineer couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath, despite his frustration. Of course he could trust Pyro to get proper kindling. Even if he was childish, he still had the mind of a pyromaniac.

“Good job, boy,” He praised, sitting up. “We’ll get a good fire goin’ with these. You still got that lighter?”

Pyro nodded eagerly, fishing it out of his pocket and handing it to Dell.

“That’s real good. Come on, son, let’s go find the others.”

Pyro cheerfully walked by his side, happily carrying the firewood under his arms. Engie would have normally helped without a second thought. But with his toolbox in one hand and minor injuries stinging something fierce, he decided against it. After all, Pyro didn’t seem to be having too much of a problem.  
A few minutes of aimless wandering later, they finally came across Dr. Ludwig. He jogged over, waving them over.

“We’re over here, comrade!” He called to them, gesturing to the right. Dell and Pyro turned to see a small clearing, where the other six mercenaries were already relaxing as best they could (though Soldier didn’t look too happy at the mention of the word ‘comrade’). 

“Thanks, doc,” Dell said, clapping him on the back. “Pyro, help me set up a campfire before it gets dark.”

Pyro nodded and dropped the firewood onto the ground, sitting down with crossed legs as he started arranging it. 

“Do you need help?”

“No!”

It took a little while, but eventually he managed to get it into a decent pile.  
When he did, Dell crouched down and clicked the lighter, waiting until the log could sustain its own flame to close it. Pyro clapped his hands, delighting in the new fire. Dell almost wished he could share in his excitement. But frankly, he’d had enough fire for the day, if not a lifetime. Instead, he sat on a nearby tree that had been overturned by age, stretching out a bit. 

As he surveyed the clearing, he tried to relax as well. But without anything to do, he was reduced to watching his teammates. It was a mismatch, that was for sure. Soldier and Demoman were in a heated debate, Scout was drawing something on an old piece of scrap paper, meanwhile Spy and Sniper were busy trying to pretend they didn’t know the rest of the group. And on the other side of the tiny clearing, Medic was resting his head on Heavy’s leg. The two were speaking to one another in soft tones, looking from Dell, to Pyro, and then away. He tried to ignore it. Then again, it could be important…

Dell wasn’t one for eavesdropping. He’d been raised to be polite, to respect boundaries. Then again, he’d also been raised to build machines that had the capacity to murder people. But he took pride in both of them (though, maybe the building a little more so). Either way, the point was that he wasn’t the kind of person that would normally listen in on other peoples’ conversations. But, despite his better judgment and every thought in his mind telling him ‘this is a bad idea!’, he tuned everything out and focused on their voices.

The result was...not much. They were speaking too quietly, so he couldn’t pick up more than a word here and there. And what he could hear just served to confuse him more.

“...development…”

“...agree, he’s….”

“...could have…”

Dell was about to stop listening, until he heard that word again. Soft, barely understandable, but somehow clear as crystal in his ear.

“...traumatic…”

Damn it all. Every time he heard it, it worried him more. Clearly, they knew more than he did about the situation. But he wanted to know as well.   
Wait...why did he want to know so badly? He hadn’t stopped to even ask himself that much.   
As the engineer considered this, he realized that he never did. When he wanted to know something, he just went after that information. There was no need to think any deeper about why he wanted to know how a machine worked, or how to fix this or that. But this was about a person.

Dell knew people. Most of the time, he understood who they were by a single glance, able to diffuse situations (and ignite them, when it was needed). But more often than not, he didn’t care. He knew people, but he didn’t KNOW people. And now, here he was, wanting to know a person that was hidden behind lock, key, and mask. It bothered him. Why did it bother him?

There were too many questions, and not enough answers. Dell shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He needed to stop thinking about it for now, else it would drive him insane (or...more insane, maybe). He stretched once more and laid down, taking off his hardhat and goggles. As he gazed up at the sky through the trees, he noticed how dark it had gotten in such a short amount of time. Maybe he’d been caught up in his thoughts for a while. It sure seemed like it - everything had quieted down. Spy had walked off (typical), Soldier and Demoman had somehow managed to lower their voices, and Medic had fallen asleep on Heavy, who looked a few minutes away from passing out himself. That sounded like a good idea, Dell thought. It’d been a while since he’d gotten a proper night’s sleep, anyway. Besides, he’d need all the clear-headedness he could get if he was gonna fix that truck tomorrow.  
Allowing his eyelids to get heavier, he listened as the sounds of summer lulled him into a sense of calm; crickets, cicadas, and the crackling of a campfire were strong sedatives to someone like him, and it wasn't long before he had drifted off entirely.


	4. Embers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> Uh. So this chapter miiight be a little different from the others. I had a bit of a hard time writing it, because I really didn't want to exposition dump or overdo anything. I hope I did a good job at least!  
> I'd like to reiterate what I did in the first chapter, since I'm starting to get more into backstory and other similar stuff: anything not confirmed by Valve is just my headcanon or theory. I'm not trying to pretend anything like that is canon, nor do I want to.  
> With that out of the way, please enjoy! :D

If something in particular woke up Dell, he didn’t know what it was.  
What he did know, though, was that it was too early to be awake. The moon, though somewhat low in the sky, was still just as bright as before - it didn’t look like morning would be coming anytime soon. After a minute of getting his bearings, he sat up and stretched reluctantly. Better to get up now than spend the next few hours trying to get back to sleep, he decided. 

The fire couldn’t even be called a fire anymore, having long since degraded to a pile of barely glowing twigs, so it took a few seconds before Dell could see much of anything. Even with his eyes adjusting to the darkness, the shadows that the trees cast on the clearing made it difficult to make anything out.

He could, however, recognize the silhouettes of his teammates, laid in random places as they slept. As he squinted, he noticed that one or two of them were missing. Nothing to worry about, he figured. Probably Spy or Sniper, or both. They were grown men, they could take care of themselves.

With that settled, he stood and raised his arms in another stretch. There wasn’t much to do, really. But, well, Dell could definitely appreciate the outdoors, and the woods around him were practically begging to be explored. So that’s what he decided to do. Picking up his hardhat and shoving his goggles in his pocket, he started towards the mouth of the clearing.

“Where are you going, my friend?”

Dell peered down at where the voice came from, next to him. Dr. Ludwig was looking right back at him, barely visible but staring him directly in the eye. It took a good bit of willpower for Dell to stop himself from shivering. Though his tone was warm enough, his expression was, for lack of a better term, cold. With the little light peeking through the trees, he could see that the good doctor was still laying down in the same place he’d been hours earlier, though he’d adjusted himself to where he could look at Dell without breaking his neck.

“For a walk,” Dell replied, careful to keep his voice down as to not wake up his teammates.

Dr. Ludwig nodded in understanding. “Hurry back. I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Alright then, doc.” Dell managed a smile, but honestly he was pretty eager to leave the clearing. Dr. Ludwig had become a good friend of his in the four, almost five years they’d worked together, but he still had moments where Dell was unnerved by him, and sometimes just outright creeped out. This was one of those times. What the hell kind of questions did he want to ask?

As Dell crept out of the clearing, he let out a breath. Not even five minutes after waking up, he felt the overwhelming need to clear his head. He looked around at his surroundings, which he could see at least a little bit better now. Eventually he decided to just head in a random direction, and figure his way back when it came to that.

The sounds and smells of the New Mexico forest, even at night, soothed Dell almost immediately. The heat in the air, despite the time (probably past three am, he guessed), the crunch of twigs and fir needles under his boots and the cicada songs ringing from god knows where. It was calming, at least to him. It reminded him of where he’d grown up.  
It wasn’t Texas. Not even close. But, well, it wasn’t hard to pretend. 

The problem with walking in semi-silence, however, was being alone with his thoughts. And, after today (after the past month or so, really) Dell had a lot of them.  
He tried to distract himself by thinking about what he normally did. His machines, plans to experiment with them. He had to remember to clean his tools. But, as had been happening more and more, his mind drifted back to the Pyro. It wasn’t anything new; it had been going on much longer than just a day. But today, after everything that had happened, mild curiosity had exploded into emotions that Dell couldn’t even name. Concern, definitely. Or was it protectiveness? He had no clue anymore. But he wanted to know more about Pyro. He wanted to understand him. Because as it stood, he only knew two things: he was childlike, and he liked fire. But why?

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He knew that Pyro had been through...something. He didn’t know what it was, and couldn’t even start to guess. But neither Miss Pauling nor Dr. Ludwig would throw a word like ‘trauma’ around like that. It had to mean something. What it meant, though, scared Dell. To think that kind, enthusiastic Pyro had gone through something terrible enough to be called ‘traumatic’, it made him sick to his stomach. And Dell was not a sensitive person by any stretch of the imagination - he built machines with the sole purpose of causing pain, after all. He was a killer of men. Everyone on the RED team was, including Pyro. But something tugged at him, telling him that Pyro was somehow different. Unaware, maybe. 

Engineer was relieved to get a distraction from his thoughts when he heard a rustle from some foliage a few feet away. His first assumption was that it was an animal, but he quickly realized the rustling was too aggressive to be anything found in woods like these.

“Who’s there?” He demanded. There was no response. 

‘This a dumb idea,’ He thought as he crept towards the foliage, pushing aside branches and leaves. It was. But the alternative was to keep walking forwards and let his mind be troubled with those thoughts. He liked the idea of being attacked by a wild animal (or person) more than that.  
Luckily, nothing attacked him. In fact, he didn’t really see anything at all.  
But what was the rustling? Maybe it had just been the wind, or a small animal like he’d originally thought. Either way, he decided to keep walking until he did see something.   
Soon he heard voices. They were too far away to recognize, if he knew the voices as all, but he headed towards them with little hesitation.   
What he saw as he got closer was a pair of silhouettes - one standing over the other triumphantly. Dell watched for a second, safely hidden by shadow, until he saw the standing one kick at what he assumed was a person or an animal. If it was, they were curled up, facing away from the person, trying to deflect the blows.

“Hey!” He shouted in their direction. “What do you think you’re doin’?!”

The figure stopped in its tracks. Taking his chance, Dell started to make his way towards the people, but he didn’t get far before the standing man (he could tell they were male now, thin and average height) darted off.   
The other person struggled to sit up, turning to face Dell.

“Engie…!”

They spoke in a trembling, tearful voice that was just a little bit loud. Moonlight hit their face perfectly as they sat up, escaping the shadow blanketing them and allowing Dell to get a look at them.

‘Rough’ was the first word that came to mind. Their hair was scruffy, dark and looked like it hadn’t been cut in a long time. It framed their face, hung over their eyes. They looked young - late teens, early twenties, maybe. But what startled Dell more than anything was the burns.   
They covered a good portion of the person’s face and neck, and most likely spread down onto the rest of their body, marring otherwise smooth (albeit freckled) skin. Dell stepped closer.

“Are you alright, mister?” He asked. He could clearly see tears pooling up and spilling over their scarred cheeks, showing no signs of stopping. Their injuries, just from what Dell could see, were pretty bad. A bloody nose, a gash on their forehead, and bruises on their face that were already forming. The rest of their body was probably even worse.

“I-I didn’t do anything, I swear!” The person sobbed, bringing their hands up to hide their face. One was bare, showing more burns creeping up to their fingers, but the other hand was covered by a glove.

Dell smiled comfortingly. “Hey, now, a few scars ain’t anything to be worried about. I’ve seen worse.”

The person shook their head and refused to lower their hands.

“I didn’t do anything,” They repeated.

Did they think they were going to be hit? Dell took off his hardhat. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you, son. That’s a promise.”

The person lowered their hands slowly, watching him with wary eyes. 

“I want my mask…”

Dell felt a chill run through him as he stared at the crying person in front of him. It spread through his entire body, making the world feel a lot slower than it was. All he could do was stare at them. Their gloved hand, which he should have recognized. The jumpsuit they wore, which he could now see was red. Finally, the realization set in, and a lump formed in his throat.

“Pyro…” He muttered, disbelief and horror just barely noticeable in his voice.

“Yeah?” Pyro seemed to be trying to calm down, but it wasn’t working. He still trembled, flinching every time he shifted a bit. 

Dell could practically feel his heart breaking in two. He immediately crouched down to meet his eyes.

“What happened?” He asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. “Tell me.”

Pyro hiccuped, wiping the tears from his face. He was quiet at first - maybe deciding whether he wanted to say anything or not. But after a second or two, he spoke, choking the words out.

“I-I saw the fire was getting low...an’ I didn’t want it to go out...so I went to go look for more wood, and...and…”

He trailed off, looking to where the other figure had run off. Almost like he was afraid they’d reappear and finish what they had started.

“And then what?” Dell pressed gently, softening his voice. The last thing he wanted to do was upset him further, but he had an idea of what had really happened. He needed to hear it from Pyro’s mouth before he could do or say anything.

“I don’t wanna say…”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t want to get anybody in trouble…”

“Nobody’s gonna get in trouble, son.” It was a lie. Dell knew it was before he spoke it into existence. But it was enough. Pyro was quiet for a few seconds.

“I was getting wood for the fire, and Scout pushed me down. He, he took my mask, too.”

It was just as Dell had figured. But even so, a pang went through his heart when Pyro said it.

“Is...is that all he did?”

Pyro shook his head in a ‘no’ motion, more tears starting to pool up in his eyes. Dell held out his arms.

“Come here,” He managed, his voice almost as shaky as Pyro’s. The young man stayed still for a second, uncertain. But after a second, when he realized Engie was serious, a small sob escaped his mouth as he threw himself at him and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. He didn’t even try to stop himself from crying anymore, a fresh wave of tears replacing the ones he’d wiped away as he wept into Dell’s shoulder. 

Dell was glad for it. He didn’t want Pyro to see the tears that were starting to prick at his own eyes. He carefully placed a hand on his back, just letting him cry for a while. 

“It’s alright...it’s alright.”

It hurt him, though, seeing the boy like this. More than he’d imagined. How could he possibly console him? He knew how to calm people down normally. He was the unofficial mediator for all of RED’s fights, after all. And there were a lot of them. But he wasn’t used to crying, especially not after something like this. All he could do was be there for Pyro and let him cry until he wore himself out.  
It was then that he remembered the lighter.

“Pyro, look here for a second.”

Pyro lifted his head, looking at Engie with dewy eyes.  
Dell dug the lighter out of his pocket, smiling in a way that he hoped was comforting. 

“Look what I’ve got.”

Pyro, though his crying didn’t stop, looked at the lighter with newfound interest. Engie clicked it and let the tiny flame dance around, lighting up the small space. The new light reflected in Pyro’s eyes, pausing the tears for a moment. Naturally, fire would be the thing to cheer him up.

“There, see, ain’t that a cute little flame?” Dell crooned softly, cautious relief allowing him to relax a bit. Pyro nodded, hesitantly reaching out for the lighter.

“Do you wanna hold it?”

“Uh-huh…”

Dell held it out to him and let Pyro take it from his hands. The fire from the lighter bathed his face in amber colored light, getting a weak smile out of him.   
With Pyro somewhat calmer, Dell felt more comfortable looking at him. And the light from the flame, though it was dim, let him see much better. So he started looking over Pyro’s features, hesitant but curious.

He was androgynous in his appearance. Maybe it was the length of his hair, or the softness of his jaw. His eyes were round and doe-like, though Dell still couldn’t discern the color.   
He couldn’t ignore the burns. They were old, clearly - they would look much, much worse if they weren’t. Apparently Pyro’s fire obsession wasn’t anything new. Not surprising.

Engineer smiled softly as he realized that the wet streaks on Pyro’s cheeks were starting to dry.

“Do you wanna start heading back?”

Pyro turned towards him, shaking his head.

“No…!”

Engineer nodded.

“That’s alright, then. We don’t have to.”  
And so the two sat in silence for what must have been at least an hour. Really, Dell didn’t mind. He was just...was worried the right word to use? Yeah. Close enough. He was worried about Pyro. Though he seemed content, at least, so that was better than nothing.  
The scruffy-looking boy suddenly swayed forward a little bit, closing his eyes and quickly snapping back to attention. Dell chuckled a little bit.

“Tired?”

“No…” Pyro replied, a hint of indignation in his tone.

“Huh. You sure?”

“I’m sure!” 

Dell raised an eyebrow. 

“Did you sleep at all at the campsite?”

Pyro glanced away.

“No...Not really…”

“Go ahead and sleep, then. I won’t go anywhere.”

There was no response.

“Pyro?”

Expression troubled, Pyro squeezed the lighter nervously as he turned back to Dell.

“Engie, when we go back home we can still pretend nothin’ happened, right?” He asked. “Because you said we could.”

Dell was taken aback for a second, but refused to show it and worry Pyro any further.

“Well, I don’t see why not,” He finally said. “A lot’s happened. I think we’re all better off forgettin’ about it.”

Pyro smiled at him.

“Okay!” He said cheerfully. “I want to watch you work when we get back. Can I?”

“Sure thing.”

Pyro stretched, satisfied with the answers he’d received, and laid down on the grass. Within mere minutes, his breath had evened out. Dell couldn’t tell, but he assumed he was asleep.   
He moved from a crouch to sitting on the grass himself, in no hurry to get back to the clearing either. 

He wanted to forget about today too. But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to. Forcing himself to take another look at the sleeping boy, he felt another pang go through his chest. Maybe there was something he could have done to protect him better. This might not have happened if he had.  
But it wasn’t like Pyro was incapable of protecting himself. Aware or not, he was a merc, and one of their best at that.

“Oh, there you are.”

Dell jumped out of surprise, swiftly turning to the direction of the voice. Dr. Ludwig stood there, hands behind his back and an unnerving smile painted on his face.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Dell replied. Dr. Ludwig’s face fell for a second.

“Well, you were gone for quite some time. I was worried, so I decided to go looking for you. Besides, I did say I had questions. Though…” The medic peered down at him and Pyro. “I think I have a few answers.”

“Huh?”

“May I sit?”

“Uh...yeah, go ahead.”

Dr. Ludwig arranged himself next to the other two mercenaries, crossing his legs neatly. His smile faded completely as his gaze fixed on Pyro.

“How bad is it?” He asked.

Dell grimaced. “Not sure yet. I’ve barely seen his face.”

“Are you going to do anything about Scout?”

“...Probably.”

“Don’t kill him. It’s too much trouble to bring him back.”

“I won’t.”

Medic nodded and looked over the sleeping boy.

“He’s an interesting case,” He said quietly. “I have never had a patient quite like him.”

“How much do you know?” Dell asked. “About him, that is.”

Dr. Ludwig shrugged. 

“Not everything. But, naturally, I have the medical files for everyone on the team. So, I suppose I know a good amount.”

Dell didn’t respond. The medic turned to look at him

“Dell,” Dr. Ludwig spoke softly, though his expression was stony. “Mentally, emotionally, that boy is a child.”

“I know that.”

“I know you do. I’m surprised nobody else has pieced it together yet.”

“Then why’d you tell me in the first place?”

Dr. Ludwig paused, as though he were trying to find the right words. He looked troubled as he looked down, spotting Spy’s lighter laying in Pyro’s scarred hand.

“You’ve been a very good friend to me, Dell. I know you’ll understand what I mean when I say he’s more than just a childlike pyromaniac. He’s unaware of most things around him, but he’s just as capable as anyone else. I’ve never seen a condition like it, in all my years as a doctor.”

“Yeah, I think I understand,” Dell replied. 

“You’ve always been kind to him,” The doctor continued, ignoring his comment. “I must thank you for that. I don’t know much about him myself, but I know that with everything he’s gone through, kindness is something he needs. More than the average person.”

“What happened to him?” The engineer asked, looking down at him again. Pyro rolled over in his sleep, hair and clothes already peppered with dirt. Dell took the chance to pluck a stray twig that had been sticking out from his mop of hair.

“...I don’t know that. I wish I did. I know it involved fire...of course it did.” Dr. Ludwig gestured to the boy’s face.  
“Forty percent of his body. It’s a miracle he even survived it. I do know that whatever happened, it’s affected him for years.”

Dell had always been a little jealous of Dr. Ludwig. He understood people, while Dell’s knowledge had always lied with metal and gears.

“Why haven’t you just healed them? The burns.”

“It’s been too long. They’ve already healed, just left scar tissue in their place.”

Dell nodded and said nothing for a while. He opened his mouth to speak, but then thought against it and closed it again. Dr. Ludwig didn’t let him, though.

“Yes? Out with it, comrade.”

Dell debated against telling him what was truly on his mind. He’d never really felt the need to confide in anyone before. But Dr. Ludwig was his friend. Creepy, sometimes. Absolutely mad, of course. But so was he.   
He could trust him with these thoughts.

“I’ve been worried about him,” He admitted. “Pyro, that is. I saw him like that...saw him crying, and it hurt like a bitch. Like...guilt? Like I coulda’ done somethin’ to stop it.”

Medic smiled, mildly amused. 

“It seems you’ve taken on a parental role. Rather quickly, too. Have you not noticed your own paternal instincts?”

“Is that what it is?” Dell managed a smile as well. It made sense to him. He felt a little silly, not understanding a feeling as simple as that. But at the same time, a bit amused as well.

“Yes, it is. Pyro has latched on to you, and you in turn have become more protective of him. He sees you as a parental figure of sorts, so it’s only natural.”

“Hm.” Dell thought about it for a minute. “I want to know more about him...I wanna understand.”

“You aren’t alone, my friend.”

Dell didn’t say anything in response. There was no need. And so they sat in silence for a while, until Dr. Ludwig spoke up.

“How have your experiments been going?”

If anyone had stumbled onto the scene, it probably would have been concerning at the very least. But after everything - the fire, the truck breaking down, Pyro being hurt, Dell was glad to be able to talk normally. Or, at least, as normally as he could. It was a welcome break from the stress, the worry, and all the feelings banging around in his head.   
Yes, there was still the matter of Pyro, of Scout, of the truck. But, at least for now, it was calm. Just a friend talking to another friend.


	5. Smoldering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> Honestly I'm just so tired. This chapter was fun to write though.   
> I don't have much of an author's note this time around, really, other than to apologize for the late chapter. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Neither man remembered falling asleep.  
For hours and hours after their conversation, Dell and Dr. Ludwig had sat by Pyro, talking and laughing about anything and everything that came to mind. They talked about past experiences from the past four years as well as before, swapping stories about past experiments and patients. Anything but the scarred, sleeping boy next to them. It wasn’t that they were trying to pretend that the matter of Pyro didn’t exist; it was almost impossible to ignore in the first place. But both Medic and Engineer were interested in taking their minds off of it for a short while, though neither of them said anything about it.

At some point, Dell had noticed the sun coming up, just barely peeking through the coniferous trees. But before he knew it, he was being shaken awake by someone.

“Engie,” came a clear, simple voice. “Engie, get up. It’s morning…!”

Dell cracked his eyes open to see Pyro crouched next to him, leaning over him and clutching a fistful of Dell’s shirt sleeve. His expression was wide-eyed and surprised, but quickly switched to a smile as he noticed Dell awaken.

“You’re awake…!” He trilled, letting himself fall into a sitting position beside him. Dell stifled a tired groan and sat up to meet him, reaching out and ruffling his messy hair.

“Mornin, Pyro,” He replied, smiling back a little bit sleepily. Pyro laughed softly as his hair was messed up (well, more messed up) and reached up, grabbing onto Dell’s wrist.

Dell couldn’t really bring himself to look at Pyro for more than a second, even in the daylight. The beating he’d received was much more visible in the sun, his injuries a painful mix of bruises and gashes. It was worse than he’d originally thought, and every time he looked at Pyro his chest bubbled up with anger for the person who’d done it.

“Good morning!”

Just those words, though, spoken in a cheerful, sweet tone, were enough to soothe any anger Dell had been feeling. Pyro seemed to almost have forgotten the incident entirely and was no longer trying to keep his voice down. Engie could put this anger away for now. He’d need it later, but for now it would just get in the way. The noise Pyro had been making began to coax Dr. Ludwig awake, causing him to sit up and look at the two.

“Guten morgen,” He mumbled, his first words of the day a bit rasped. Pyro turned to look at him, his smile fading to confusion and then returning.

“Hi doctor,” He said. Medic gave him a smile as well, surprisingly kind-looking as he pushed a rogue curl out of his face and adjusted his glasses.

“Hello, Pyro,” He replied politely. But Pyro was already distracted, having seen something that interested him somewhere else. As he got up and walked off, Dell glanced up at the sky. It had lightened to a bright blue, with the sun somewhat higher and a few clouds drifting along in it. It was maybe around ten in the morning, he thought. After a few minutes of waking up, Dell sighed and forced himself to stand, holding out a hand to help up the frail medic. Ludwig took it and stood up.

“Danke.”

“Don’t mention it.” Dell cleared his throat so that his voice was less husky. “But I reckon it’s about time we start fixin’ to head back.”

Ludwig nodded in agreement.

“Miss Pauling should be here any minute, now,” He said as he glanced over to where Pyro had run off to. He hadn’t gone far. He was only a few yards away, turned away from them as he sat in the grass.

“Pyro, come on. We’re goin’ now,” Dell called to him, following Ludwig’s eyes.

“Not yet…!”

Pyro refused to look back. Ludwig gave the stocky, shorter man a knowing look, which Dell returned before trodding over to the boy.

“Is everything alright over here?” He asked, standing behind him. Pyro shook his head.

“I’m not done yet!” He protested.

Dell crouched down. 

“Done with what…?”

Pyro peered up at him, scooting over so that Dell could see.  
In front of him was a cluster of small white blossoms, a handful of them fashioned into a crude bouquet. For a second, Dell became nervous, mistaking the leaves for something else and thinking they could be toxic, but in the same moment he realized they were harmless and relaxed.

“I’m not done yet,” Pyro huffed, pulling another flower from the group. “I wanna give these to Miss Pauling when she gets here.”

Engie reached out and plucked one of the tiny blossoms as well, handing it to Pyro. He looked at him with wonder and took it, adding it to the bunch.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” The engineer said after a moment. “But we do need to get goin’. She’s a busy lady, after all. Don’t wanna keep her waiting, now, do we?”

Pyro looked from the flowers, to Dell.

“No, not really,” He said softly, standing up. He followed Dell as he started walking, only a foot or two behind. Dr. Ludwig soon joined them, plucking grass and twigs from his hair.

“Absolutely filthy,” He grumbled to himself. Dell snickered.

“What’s the matter, doc, a little dirt too much for ya?”

Ludwig gave him a good-natured glare, causing Pyro to burst into a fit of giggles. Dell felt a sense of pride in getting him to laugh, continuing to trek towards the clearing.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, though, Pyro stopped in his tracks. 

“What is it, now?” Ludwig asked, unable to hide a hint of irritation as he turned. Engie stopped as well, facing him. Pyro folded his hands together. He looked anxious; his mouth was curled into a small but worried frown, and his bangs had fallen back into his eyes (which he didn’t bother to brush away).

“...My mask…” He mumbled, looking away from the two men. His hands went to his cheeks, touching the skin that should have been covered.

Dell placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re gonna get it back. Don’t worry.”

“...s’ not that…” 

“Then what is it?”

Pyro shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking down at the ground and going quiet. Dell was about to ask again, but Ludwig beat him to it.

“You’re worried about people seeing you, right?”

Pyro nodded.

“Uh huh.”

Neither Dell nor Ludwig really knew how to respond. It wasn’t like they could do anything about it. Besides, they didn’t even know if Scout had the mask in the first place. He could have very easily dropped it somewhere that they didn’t know about.

“It won’t be for very long,” Dell finally said. “Just until we get back to the base.”

Pyro didn’t look happy with that answer.

“B-But…”

Ludwig suddenly came forward. Dell made room for him, taking a step or two to the right.

“Pyro, how about I make you a deal.”

His words piqued Pyro’s interest. The disheveled young man glanced over to the doctor.

“Deal…?”

“Yes, a deal,” Ludwig said. “If you can be brave and go without your mask for just a few hours, I’ll let you feed the doves when we get back to the base.”

It was extremely tempting, judging by Pyro’s excited, wide-eyed expression.

“Really?! Even Archimedes?!” He exclaimed in disbelief. Ludwig seemed hesitant to commit to the idea, but nodded nonetheless (though he didn’t look very happy about it).

“Even Archimedes,” He repeated. “What do you say? Will you do it?”

Dell watched, admittedly a bit impatiently, as Pyro decided. After a few seconds of quiet, he pushed his hair out of his face and nodded back.

“I guess I can do it…” He finally said. Ludwig breathed a small, relieved sigh, and Dell allowed himself a small grin.

“Good,” The engineer replied gently. “You’re real brave. And it’ll only be for a couple hours.”

Pyro smiled at the compliment, following them once more.

As they walked, Dell found himself glancing every so often at Ludwig. He’d handled the problem with ease, knowing just what would coax Pyro into doing what he wanted him to. He knew the medic was intelligent - he’d once had a medical license, before tragically losing it in an incident involving a human skeleton. He had to be. And Dell was intelligent too. He had 11 PHDs, for crying out loud. But he knew how adults worked - how to motivate them, how to calm them down or rile them up. The boy walking next to them wasn’t an adult. Well, he was, but he wasn’t. He didn’t like to admit it, but there was probably a decent amount that he could learn from Medic, especially about Pyro. 

He really hated to admit it. He’d spent his entire life going after knowledge on his own, to the point where he might have even developed a bit of a complex over it. He valued his own knowledge and intelligence more than he probably should have. It irked him when he didn’t know things, and even more so when other people knew things he didn’t. It wasn’t a personal matter. Just his own ego getting in the way. It was a miracle he’d managed to swallow his pride enough to ask anyone about Pyro. 

When they finally reached the truck (they’d checked the camp, which had long since been abandoned), there was another car there. It looked like a van. A newer model, sleek and proper-looking and appearing very much out of place next to the beat up, bullet-riddled ‘Red Bread’ truck. Next to it stood a younger woman, with what Dell could clearly recognize as the other mercs, unloading their weapons from the truck and placing them in the van’s trunk.

The woman was pretty, but plain, wearing a simple purple dress and cat-eye glasses. Her hair, usually pulled into a neat bun, was instead tied into a single ponytail. She’d probably left the house in a hurry.

“MISS PAULING!”

If Pyro was still worried about his mask, or had any anxieties at all in the moment, they disappeared as he broke out into a run toward her, hand in the air as he waved excitedly. Miss Pauling spun around from where Scout was trying to impress her (and failing). It was clear she was surprised, and the other mercs didn’t look too much better, confusion written all over everyone’s faces as they watched the person they didn’t recognize running over. The only ones out of the men who seemed to understand any of the situation were Heavy, who remained stoic and calm, and Scout. He was anything but stoic. In fact, he looked more upset than anything. But as Pyro grew closer, Miss Pauling’s surprised expression melted into a welcoming grin. 

“Hey, buddy!” She said cheerfully, opening her arms as Pyro locked her into a hug. Engineer and Medic soon caught up to him, though the latter didn’t bother to speed up.

“Mornin’, miss,” Dell greeted her as he got close enough. Medic only offered her a polite wave as he went to Heavy. 

“Hey, sorry I’m a little late. Work stuff.” Miss Pauling said.

“That’s no problem at all.”

Pyro let go of her, grinning.

“Guess what?!” He asked her excitedly. 

“Hm? What is it?”

Pyro was still clutching the flowers in his hand, but before he could hand them to her, he got a glimpse of Scout behind her. He was seething mad, probably because he’d been interrupted by Pyro of all people. But for once, he kept his mouth shut, most likely not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Miss Pauling. Pyro averted his eyes and hid the bunch behind his back, kicking the dirt a little.

“Um...nevermind.” He glanced towards Engie for some kind of assurance. He didn’t have to be scared of Scout right now, but he was. Even though he didn’t want to be. Scout was his teammate, they were supposed to be friends. Well...he said that, but he wasn’t friends with anybody on the team except for Engie.

“Uh...alright, then,” Miss Pauling replied. She looked knowingly at Dell, who had noticed and was already walking closer towards them, and then back at Pyro.

“You can tell me later. Okay Pyro?”

Pyro nodded and ducked behind Dell; though he was taller than the engineer, he seemed to almost shrink at Scout’s glare. But that glare quickly turned to suppressed concern for his well-being as Dell met his eyes.   
As for the rest of the mercs, as she spoke the word ‘Pyro’ into existence, the same shock Dell had felt the night before crept through the air. The quiet that followed allowed it to be felt by everyone. Soldier and Demoman openly stared at him, Spy and Sniper snuck glances at him, and Scout just narrowed his eyes. Nobody said anything, probably afraid to. Dell watched them with an uncharacteristically cold look in his eye, daring anyone to say something without having to open his mouth.

“Anyway,” Miss Pauling turned to the van and opened the door, forcefully breaking the silence. “Come on. I’ve only got a few hours before the dealership realizes it’s missing.”

Nobody seemed in the mood to question that, and instead started to pile into it, wordless for the most part. Even with the vehicle being as large as it was, it was a tight squeeze with ten people trying to make space for themselves. One spot was freed by Ludwig sitting on Heavy’s lap, but that didn’t help very much. Dell waited until Pyro had climbed into the spot next to them before sliding his toolbox under the seat and sitting beside him. Pyro was wary of the large man next to him, glancing nervously up at him. He wasn’t particularly small, but next to him he looked absolutely tiny. Dell sympathized with that feeling. He knew it well. 

As Scout slid into the front seat (because of course he did) Miss Pauling turned the key and let the engine roar to life. As the van started to move, veering back onto the road, Pyro looked out the window with suppressed excitement.

“Engie, look,” He said in a hushed voice. Dell looked out the window too, unable to feel any excitement of his own from it, but smiled anyway.

“I see it,” He replied. Pyro grinned, turning back to the window. Heavy and Medic were taking up the seat next to it, so he had to crane his neck forward to see, but he seemed content with it. Dell watched him idly. There wasn’t much else to do, after all. For just a moment, he wished he could feel the same joy from such simple things, like feeding birds and watching a car move.   
But he knew that as nice as it would be to be content with things as unimportant as that, it came with the price of not understanding the world moving around him. Dell knew he wouldn’t be able to live with that.

The ride passed quicker than Dell remembered. Of course, they’d already been halfway through it when that cursed truck broke down, but it still felt shorter than it should have. Either way, Miss Pauling pulled into the spot where the Red Bread truck would have normally been, parking it with some slight difficulty. 

“Sorry, not used to this thing.”

“Finally,” Demoman stretched as he got out. “I’m goin’ out.”

“Hey, bring me back a beer,” Scout called after him as he hopped onto one of the active teleporters. He looked sore, probably because any attempts he’d made at striking up conversation with Miss Pauling were horrific failures. As everyone filtered out of the garage, going towards their own separate areas, Dell shook off any secondhand embarrassment left over from the ride and stepped out, allowing Pyro to escape the van as well. 

“Pyro,” Ludwig called to him as he hopped out, “Would you mind meeting me in the lab?”

Pyro’s eyes lit up. 

“I get to feed the birds now, right? That was the deal.”

“Well, yes, that, but I’d also like to get you healed up. Those bruises don’t look very good.”

At this, Ludwig snuck a dirty look towards Scout, one that he didn’t notice.

Pyro seemed to have forgotten that he was hurt until that moment, bringing his hand to his cheek once again. 

“Oh, yeah. Okay, I’m coming!” He jogged towards Ludwig, who had already disappeared into his lab. But before he reached the door, it occurred to him that he’d forgotten something.

“Miss Pauling!” He called to her, his voice quavering with a slight nervousness.

“Hm? What is it, Pyro?” Miss Pauling opened the door as she realized he was next to it. Pyro, with one more look around the room to check for Scout, pulled out the homemade bouquet. It was slightly wilted, and one or two of the flowers were crushed, but he didn’t seem to notice. Miss Pauling smiled at it, turning her eyes to him.

“Those are really nice, buddy!” She said, speaking in a sweeter tone. She sounded more like a kindergarten teacher than anything, Dell remarked to himself.

“No, they’re for you!” Pyro insisted, holding them out to her. “Since you took us back home.”

At that, Miss Pauling’s eyes widened a bit, and she tentatively reached out and took the bouquet.

“Thank you,” She replied, maintaining her kinder tone of voice. “That’s really, really thoughtful of you.” With her free hand, she ruffled his hair, earning a grin from him.

“I gotta go now, okay? You should go to the lab, too. Medic is waiting for you.”

“Okay. Bye Miss Pauling!” Pyro waved one more time, a smile on his face as he left the room. As he ran out of earshot, Miss Pauling got out of the driver’s seat, looking around the garage to make sure everyone was gone.

“Engie,” she finally said, once she was certain. “What happened to Pyro’s mask?”

Dell didn’t know if he wanted to answer that. He didn’t know how on earth she might react.

“Um...well, the thing is, miss...”

“Scout, right?”

Dell was quiet for a second.

“Yeah.”

“I figured.” Miss Pauling tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Anyway, I pulled some strings and got a copy of a file you might be interested in.” She climbed into the passenger seat of the van, digging through the glove box until she found what she was looking for: a plain manila envelope, bent up from too much time in the small space. Dell took it as she handed it out to him.

“Thank you, maam,” He said, not quite able to hide his excitement. 

“Don’t mention it. But, uh,” Miss Pauling chuckled nervously, “If you don’t mind, my moped-”

“It’s makin’ that sound again?”

“Uh, yeah. If you could,”

“That’ll be no problem.” Dell’s grip on the envelope tightened just a bit as Miss Pauling produced a beaten-up moped from the van’s trunk. He recognized it immediately. It was bright purple, secondhand and so old it damn near rivalled its owner. He had no idea how the thing was still working, but every now and then she’d bring it to Dell to fix whatever was wrong with it. He’d told her what must have been dozens of times to just give up on the old thing, but Miss Pauling was either determined, stubborn, or both, and refused to. 

“Alright, I’ll be in touch,” She said, starting to climb into the driver’s seat again.

“Now just hold on a minute,” Dell objected. “You said we’d talk about…” He glanced towards the hall.

Miss Pauling looked at the hallway too, swiveling around in her seat to face him.

“I know what I said,” she said, lowering her voice. “Engie, I don’t have much time on my hands. You should know how that is.”

“Yes, I know that, but-”

“Everything you need to know is in that file. And, honestly, I shouldn’t be giving it to you in the first place. You know how to reach me. Now I have to go, the dealership’ll be missing this.”

Engie sighed and stepped aside, allowing her to start to close the door and drive off.

“Have a good weekend, Engie,” she said, a hint of sympathy in her voice. Once she had gone, he collapsed onto a metal stool, holding the yellowish envelope up to his face. 

“Everything you need to know is in that file.”

It echoed in his mind. Everything? Was that really true? If it was...did he really want to read it? He had been saying he wanted to know more about Pyro. He had been saying he wanted to understand him. But, with the information he had craved right in front of him, he was facing a dilemma: what if the file contained something he would regret finding out? Was it better to leave this untouched? Was it an invasion of privacy? Would Pyro even care if he found out in the first place? 

Fuck it.  
Almost like tearing off a bandage, Dell opened the envelope. It contained a paper folder, with one word written on the front in bold black marker:

Pyro.


	6. The Exposition Dump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> So first of all, thank you to Moosetato2030 for helping me with this chapter! I was having some maaajor problems with it.  
> Second of all, I just wanted to say that I do actually read all comments and reviews, and that I appreciate each and every one! It's been wonderful reading them!  
> I think that's all I've got to say this time around. I hope you like this chapter! :]

Dell must have stared at that folder for at least ten minutes before he opened it. Sitting alone in the garage, in the stifling quiet, he looked down at the papers. The first thing he found was simple enough.  
Name: unknown. There was a name there once, but it had been scribbled out, with what looked like the same black marker. He didn’t know what he expected.  
Age (as of 1967): 20.  
Again, it didn’t surprise him. He’d figured he was maybe in his early twenties. Though, he hadn’t expected him to be quite that young. Even Scout was twenty-two, barely out of high school when he’d been hired. Following that logic and counting down to 1962 (the year Pyro had joined RED), that would mean Pyro had been a startling fifteen. Was that even legal? Dell laughed at himself for asking. It didn’t matter to either side whether anything was legal or not. But it was still worrying. He made a mental note to ask about it.

“-Pyro- is a twenty year old half-Hispanic, half-Caucasian male with burn scars covering roughly 40% of his body. He appears scruffy, with a slightly stocky frame and brown hair. Dr. Ludwig has stated that despite his appearance, he is overall in good physical health.”

Okay, okay, he knew that. Well, not the ethnicity, but it wasn’t like that mattered much. Most of the time, he was covered head to toe in fire retardant gear. Impatiently, he skimmed the rest of that page and flipped it to what really interested him. A page labeled “Psychiatric Evaluation”, dated 1962.

“-Pyro- displays an emotional depth more akin to that of a younger child than someone his own age, prone to crying whenever he becomes stressed or frightened. He has no problems with speaking, though his vocabulary is limited.   
During the evaluation, he exhibited an obsession with fire, fixating on a candle in Dr. [REDACTED]’s office and becoming upset when it was extinguished. This lines up with reports dating back to 1953, when he was first seen by psychiatrists for unusual behavior following the house fire that resulted in the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. [REDACTED].

Dell had to take a minute after reading that. He could only guess that the untimely deaths had been that of Pyro’s parents. He couldn’t imagine how that must be affecting him even now. Dell also had the likely culprit of the burn scars that littered his body. He’d assumed they were self-inflicted, whether on accident or on purpose. But if those burns had come from a house fire in 1953, then, he’d only been…  
He’d only been six. At the absolute most. More than likely, he’d been around the age of five. A lump formed in Dell’s throat, threatening to bring back the anger he’d been pushing away. Every time he thought he was used to finding out fucked up things about Pyro, something new popped up that punched him in the gut, bringing back waves of negative feelings that frankly, he wasn’t used to. Emotions like anger, sorrow, and strangely enough, guilt. But he forced himself to ignore them, look back down and continue reading through the file.

“He has been diagnosed with pyromania-” Sounded about right, “-but no conclusion was able to be drawn regarding his behavior. According to files from various evaluations during his childhood, he has struggled with accepting people into his life, though he showed no signs of this during his most recent. This was most likely due to foster families constantly ‘returning’ him back into his social worker’s care. We were able to confirm with the social worker, a Mrs. [REDACTED], that the most common reason for the relinquished custody was because of his obsession with fire and clear learning disabilities causing problems in the home.” 

Why would they agree to foster him and then just dump him? No wonder he’d latched onto Dell like he had. He didn’t want to be alone.

“After the situation involving the Rosnic family, -Pyro- was recruited and brought to New Mexico by Mrs. [REDACTED], where she delivered all files to Miss Pauling.”

Oh.   
Dell had just kind of assumed that the file had been written by Miss Pauling. Apparently he’d been wrong. But, wait, who was the Rosnic family? Was that the last name of his parents? It was possible there’d been a slip-up, and someone had forgotten to censor it.   
What he read next, though, was frustrating beyond belief.

“-Pyro- must be regarded as a threat and treated with extreme caution. Due to his volatile and immature nature, he must be approached as though he actually were a young child, and must not be put under stress if at all possible. Keep away from flammable substances when not in mission.”  
Dell finally realized what he didn’t like about the way the report was written. It was stilted, it was far too formal. It spoke about its subject as though he weren’t human. Pyro wasn’t just “a twenty year old half Hispanic, half Caucasian male”. He was a kind, albeit emotional kid whose enthusiasm was contagious, even to the people who didn’t like him. The person evaluating him had spent, what, a few hours at most with him? Dell had had years. Then again, he reminded himself, he’d been just as content to ignore him too, until Pyro himself had taken an interest in him. How was he any better?

Dell tried to flip the page in disgust. But there was nothing there. The only thing in the folder had been those two brief papers. The truth was, he didn’t know if he was happy about that or not. But before he could tuck the folder away somewhere, he noticed a handwritten note on the back of the psych evaluation. It was scribbled in red pen, apparently one that had been running out of ink. The handwriting was a bit rushed, but looked like it was normally quite neat.

“I need you to destroy any traces of this kid other than this. You know it won’t be good for either of us if they find out you have him. I know I can trust you to do that, and I’ll be doing the same thing when I get back to Colorado. As for your doctor, only supply him with medical files that are necessary. He doesn’t need to know the gritty details.  
Thank you for doing this for him. I know you’ll give him a proper place.”

The signature was scrawled quickly, resembling a doctor’s note with how unreadable it was. Dell couldn’t make anything out other than an ‘M’ at the very beginning. He read the note over, and over, and over. He had a feeling he knew who this M was, but he didn’t want to admit it to himself.

‘So what do I know now?’ He asked himself. Well, the answer was, not much more. But what he had found out...oh god.  
A house fire leaving him marked for life. A so-called evaluation that painted him as a dangerous fool. And apparently there’d once been more, but that had long since been destroyed. The only person who could - or would - tell him was Pyro himself. That was, if he even remembered anything from before RED.

Dell remembered the day Pyro had joined the team. Back then, it’d only been himself, Medic, and Heavy. Demoman, Spy, and the rest, they would come later, with Scout joining at the tail end of 1963. Dell had a strange fondness for that time. It was about as peaceful as you could get when you were a mercenary, and there wasn’t anything close to the clash of personalities they had now. But Pyro had been...different. He’d been shorter, for one: when he’d arrived, he’d been about 5’3”, somehow shooting up five or six inches during the next two or three years. He always wore that gas mask - not too different from the present day. But unlike now, he’d never made an attempt to speak, or interact at all actually. He wouldn’t join the rest of the team during meals or any other time, hiding away in his room unless they were going somewhere.

Dell had never really paid it any mind. In fact, he recalled being grateful for it in those early years. He’d been unnerved by Pyro, not liking his blank stare and his silent attitude. Though he knew better now, he’d had the feeling back then that this new member was a disaster waiting to happen. Especially with that flamethrower.  
A cobbled together, unstable piece of junk was what he would have described it as. Dell’s talents didn’t lie with weapons like that, but even he could make something better. In fact, he’d offered to once.

“How about I fix you up a real gun?” He’d said, loading up his toolbox for a mission. “It ain’t my specialty, but I promise you it’ll work better than that old thing.” Pyro had just looked up at him, held his flamethrower closer, and kept walking. Barely acknowledging him at all. Dell had just brushed it off at the time, chalking it up to his new teammate just being creepy. But now, he caught himself overanalyzing every memory he had of him. Had he just been more timid in those early days? Had he not liked him? Or, was it as the psychiatrist had said, that he was unable to accept his teammates? 

Dell finally stood up, looking around to decide where to put the file. He certainly couldn’t leave it out where the rest of the team could find it. Where did nobody look? His eyes immediately went to his toolbox. He almost always had it on him. He could keep an eye on it until he found a proper spot if it was there. So he opened the toolbox, stuffing the already bent up folder into the bottom. And with the ‘click’ of the lock, it was sealed away. Now to check up on Pyro.

As he entered Medic’s lab, Dell could already see him sitting on the examination table, swinging his legs back and forth idly. He was wearing different clothes, for once: black sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt, both of which were much too big on him and showed off more scarring on his shoulders and collarbone. They couldn’t have been his own, judging by the size of them. Medic faced away from both of them, humming so quietly he could barely hear him. As usual, several white doves were perched on various surfaces, which seemed to have all of Pyro’s attention. With the amount of birds roaming freely around the lab, Dell had no idea how he kept it so clean.

“Everyone alright in here?” He asked, making his presence known. Pyro and Medic turned to him, with the former immediately sliding off the table and running to him, despite being barefoot. Dell noticed as he got closer that the bruises and cuts on his body were no longer there.

“Hi Engie!” Pyro said cheerfully, almost silent in his movement. He stopped in front of him, bouncing on his toes and clasping his hands together. Dell couldn’t help but grin.

“Did Dr. Ludwig fix you up?” He replied.

“Yeah! And look!” Pyro took a step back and spun around, causing his clothes to twirl with him. “He gave me new stuff to wear while mine’s gettin’ washed!”

Medic smiled a bit sheepishly from across the room.

“They’re Misha’s,” He explained. “My clothing simply wouldn’t be appropriate for him.”

That was true. Dell could count two times he’d seen him without a tie.

“Looks great,” He said as Pyro steadied himself. The scruffy young man grinned at the compliment and ran back towards Medic.

“Can I feed the birds now? Can I?” He begged. 

“Yes, yes. I did promise.” Medic kneeled down, opening a cabinet and producing a gigantic bag of birdseed. He turned to Dell.

“Would you like to join?” He asked. His eyes, however, asked a different question.

‘Will you PLEASE help me make sure nothing goes wrong?’

“Yeah, sure thing.” Dell stepped forward, joining the two at the counter. After another few seconds of searching through a drawer, Dr. Ludwig produced three small measuring cups, handing them out to both of the other mercs. Pyro held his excitedly, watching as Medic took a small scoop of the birdseed and poured it into a small pile on the counter.

“Okay, go ahead.” Dr. Ludwig replied. Pyro filled his cup with the birdseed and copied what he’d done, though he poured from a taller height and accidentally sent some of it falling to the floor. Dell followed, managing to keep any spills minimal. The doves cooed and tilted their heads with interest, watching the two unfamiliar figures and the birdseed. Eventually they began to come closer. Archimedes, one of the braver ones of the group, spread its wings and flew directly towards Pyro, to which he yelped and ducked behind the counter. But it stopped before reaching him, landing on the counter and pecking at the food offered to it. 

“Scared of a bird?” Dell teased. Pyro shook his head.

“N-No…” He replied, poking his head back up to watch. Some of the others had followed Archimedes’ example, coming forward to eat their fill. He was mesmerized by them, carefully reaching out to touch them.

“Be gentle, now, son,” Dell reminded him, much to Dr. Ludwig’s relief. “They’re real delicate.”

Pyro nodded.

“I know,” He said, speaking in a hushed voice. “They have hollow bones. Don’t they, doctor? You said birds have hollow bones.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Dr. Ludwig smiled. “Good job. You’re quite bright.”

“No I’m not. I’m slow.”

Before either of the other men could react to that, Pyro’s frown changed to a thrilled grin as he made contact with one of the doves. Archimedes had grown bored of eating and had hopped over to Pyro’s hand, allowing the young man to pet him.

“Look…!” He said excitedly. Dell forced a smile and watched as Pyro stroked the dove’s snowy feathers.

“I see that. He’s a real sweet bird, ain’t he?”

“Uh huh.”

Just then, there was a knock on the already open door. All three mercs turned to see Scout in the doorway. Pyro’s eyes widened and he ducked behind the counter again, startling Archimedes and sending most of the doves flying. Scout seemed a bit surprised at the sudden action as well, taking a step back.

“What is it?” Medic asked, his tone suddenly colder. Scout looked a bit awkward standing there, especially with two pairs of pissed off eyes on him.

“Well, uh, it’s getting kinda late, and you know, you’re kinda the only guy who knows how to cook…”

Dr. Ludwig looked a bit annoyed, but straightened up and adjusted his tie. Pyro watched from behind the counter, brow furrowed in worry and perhaps a bit of fear. The medic looked up at the plain clock on the wall - about 5 pm, now.

“I’ll be in in a minute,” He said hastily, putting the unused measuring cups and birdseed back where they belonged. Scout nodded and walked off, not wanting to spend more time than was necessary around any of them. Before leaving the room, Ludwig turned back to Dell and Pyro.

“You’re welcome to stay,” He said. “Just don’t mess with the medical equipment.”

“Okay,” Pyro mumbled. Dell didn’t respond. He was still angry. Every time he looked at Scout, all he could see was the silhouette of a man kicking an innocent person. It filled him with disgust to just think about. He was a mercenary. Killing, shooting, it was kind of his thing. But during missions, they respawned. They could go forever, or as long as was needed. Outside of it, they were just as vulnerable as any civilian (which was probably the only reason they hadn’t ripped one another to pieces by now). He wasn’t sure if Scout had intended to kill Pyro, or just beat him half to death. Neither option was any better.

“Engie? What’s wrong?” Pyro asked, finally standing up. He carefully grabbed onto his sleeve. “You look mad.”

Dell realized with a start that his emotion was showing clearly on his face. Forcing himself to twist back into a somewhat content look, he smiled and rested a hand on Pyro’s head.

“Nothin’s wrong, boy,” He lied. “I’m not mad.” Pyro looked at him, and narrowed his eyes.

“Liar.”

Dell stared at him in confusion.

“Liar?”

“You’re mad at Scout, aren’t you?”

Dell sighed, taking off his helmet.

“...Yeah.”

“Why?”

Pyro asked it like it wasn’t an obvious question. Like he hadn’t been covered in bruises just hours earlier, like he hadn’t called out to Dell for help. 

“He hurt you!”

Pyro watched him, for once nothing distracting him. He studied Dell’s face with a new intelligence in his eyes. He was close enough that Dell could finally tell what color they were: hazel, almost brown. In the fluorescent light, the color looked more toned-down than it probably was.

“But I’m not mad,” he finally said. 

“That’s what I don’t understand!” Dell exclaimed. “I don’t know how you’re feelin’.”

Pyro went quiet. He looked up at the doves, a sudden gentleness coming into his movements. Slower, less wild and more careful. Dell remembered those movements. They’d been the movements of a Pyro from 1962, a Pyro who had been only fifteen. A scared Pyro.

“I think I’m sad,” he said softly. “I want to be friends with Scout...but he hates me. Everyone hates me, ‘cept you and doctor.”

His voice became choked with emotion as he said the last few words.

“That’s not true!” Dell replied.

“Yes it is,” Pyro insisted. “Scout beat me up...Spy says mean stuff all the time. Everybody else won’t talk to me.”

Dell wanted to say something. Something like ‘They just don’t understand!’ or ‘Who cares what they think?’ But before he could think of anything half decent, Pyro kept talking.

“We’re s’posed to be a team...so I try and be nice. But everyone’s mean back.”

“I know,” Dell said softly. “I know.” He reached out to comfort Pyro, but he moved out of the way.

“It fucking sucks!”

Dell was taken aback by his language. But as he looked, he saw Pyro’s eyes wet with tears. So he didn’t say anything. What could he say? ‘Language, young man’? 

“Maybe you’ll feel better after you eat,” He attempted. Pyro shook his head.

“I’m not hungry.”

Dell tried to speak. But something stopped him. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was left to watch as Pyro wiped his eyes, put his measuring cup in the drawer, and walked towards the doorway.

“Where are you going?” Dell finally managed.

“My room.”

And with that, Pyro was gone. Engie stood, no words coming to mind, having to remind himself to breathe.

He’d fucked up.


	7. Mandatory Fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!  
> Alright, alright, so I've got explaining to do. I haven't updated in about a month. Honestly, the only thing it boils down to is writer's block. And I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out! I was going to write a longer chapter to make up for it, but truthfully it just wouldn't feel right. I think it's best to just keep going like nothing happened.  
> I'm sure you've all heard about the whole thing with unregistered guests not being counted in hits for the time being. And, while it's a bit upsetting, I'm going to try and work through that as well. But, please, cut me a little slack if you notice updates being a bit slow! I'll be doing my best! :D

“You look upset.”

Medic’s ice-like eyes bore into Dell the moment he entered the kitchen, causing a small chill to run through his body. As was typical, the doctor’s expression was friendly enough, but his eyes were cold, almost appearing as if they were analyzing every flaw in both his body and mind. Dell had long since learned that it didn’t mean anything, though. Ludwig was just creepy.

He lingered in the doorway for a minute, taking in the familiar sights and scents of the room. Dell secretly really liked this one in particular; it was a decently sized, but still cozy room that opened up into the rec room. When RED had first arrived at this base, they’d furnished it with a folding table and chairs, and it already had a functioning stovetop and refrigerator. This base was one of the nicer ones they’d stayed in - they’d had to move to new ones three times before, once every few months, but this one they’d managed to stick in for two full years. It was the closest thing to a normal home they’d gotten, and they intended to keep it until the last possible second. 

He couldn’t enjoy it right now, though. As much as he’d tried to distract himself, he still felt shitty. The engineer had found himself here somewhat by accident, having stayed alone in the lab for a while after Pyro had left (longer than he would have liked to admit). Until finally, he’d forced himself to push it to the back of his mind. There were things that could be done instead of sitting and feeling bad for himself. So for the past while, he’d been keeping himself busy. Sweeping up spilled birdseed, tinkering with Miss Pauling’s moped, doing laundry (of which he was admittedly behind on). But hours later, with no chores or projects left to work on, he’d found himself walking aimlessly around the base, ending up in the kitchen.

He tried to ignore Ludwig, avoiding his gaze and going to the fridge to search for one of the (many) beer bottles he knew Tavish kept stocked. Really, he just wasn’t in the mood to talk, especially not about what had just happened. But Ludwig slammed it shut at the same time as Dell opened it, narrowly missing his fingers in the process.

“I said, you look upset.” He repeated, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Ludwig detested being ignored, and Dell felt a pang of guilt for doing so in the first place. But he just turned to him and shrugged.

“I’m not,” He said simply. If he was being honest with himself, he was trying to convince himself more than he was Ludwig. But, unfortunately for him, the doctor saw right through it, and he wasn’t any more convinced of it himself.

“What happened?” He pressed, shutting the door again as Dell made another attempt to open it. The shorter man sighed and gave up, dragging one of the fold-out chairs out from its home and sitting in it (backwards, naturally).

“Ah, it was nothin’,” He maintained, trying to keep his tone casual. “Pyro just got a lil’ upset and went to his room. That’s all.”

Medic nodded and went back to the pot and pan he’d been attending to. As he cooked, a bubbling and crackling sound wrapped around the room that would have been comforting, had Dell not been in such a bad mood.

“Ah, I see. Upset at?”

“Um…” Dell had to hesitate. He felt like he shouldn’t say anything, keeping it from Ludwig regardless of how close they were. But he was standing there, waiting for an answer. He should lie. But, though his mind raced, he couldn’t think of one. Why couldn’t he think of a lie?

Why couldn’t he think of a lie?

“I’m not getting any younger here, Dell.” Medic tilted his head towards him. Dell grinned nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I can see that,” He said with a small, forced chuckle. 

“Yes, yes, so can I. Now talk to me.”

“Really, it ain’t nothin’ to worry about.” He insisted. Ludwig thought for a second, and then turned back to the stove.

“Suit yourself,” He replied with a shrug.

Dell laid his arms along the edge of the chair, resting his head. Ludwig was true to his word, seemingly understanding that pressing his friend wouldn’t get the results he wanted. But he didn’t say anything further. They sat in silence there for...well, Dell wasn’t sure how long. An hour? Longer? Ah, hell, it didn’t matter.

At first, Dell tried to avoid thinking about the situation. But as the minutes ticked by, and the silence became stifling, his mind began to wander as it did so often now. He’d been through this debate with himself before. He could trust Ludwig...but still, why did he hesitate? Why did he feel the need to lie? Ludwig cared about him. Ludwig seemingly cared about Pyro, or at the very least didn’t have any intention to harm him. So why did he have such a problem coming to him with this particular issue?

Maybe it was just his pride. His ego, forcing him to believe that he should be able to solve this himself. But the longer he thought about it, the more he realized...he couldn’t. Or, he could, but he didn’t know how to. And not knowing how to fix a problem, it was overwhelming. Infuriating. And probably a lot of other words that Dell didn’t really care about right now. He knew mechanics, building, and even people like the back of his hand. So why did everyone seem to know more about Pyro than he did?! And for that matter, why did he seem to fuck up when he tried to find out more?

...That was it, he wanted to talk to Ludwig. He wanted to confide in his long-time friend, about how he’d screwed up and how he didn’t know how to fix it. He needed help, and if he had to swallow his pride even more to get it, then fine.

“...It makes him sad that the others don’t like him...other than you or me...that’s what he said.”

He said it quietly, just in case someone was listening. But also to lessen it. Somehow, he felt if he spoke in a softer voice, it’d have less impact. It didn’t feel like it had any less impact. As he spoke, a heavy feeling sank into the pit of his stomach. Dr. Ludwig didn’t even turn, but Dell noticed his expression change to one that was troubled. It didn’t scare him or make him nervous. It never did. But it did catch him off guard. Because this time around, Medic’s expression held something new. It held...pain? Anger? He couldn’t tell from here. He didn’t know if he would have been able to tell even if he were closer. The doctor didn’t say anything for a little while.

“I understand why,” He said after a moment, wiping the look on his face away as quickly as it had appeared. “He’s strange by even their standards. It’s natural for them to dislike him.”

“Hey, now wait just a second-”

“I didn’t say it was justified, did I?”

“Well, no..”

“Then let me speak.” Medic opened a cupboard and fished around for a specific bottle. Finding what he was looking for (some sort of dried herb, Dell couldn’t read the label from where he sat), he opened it and tipped some into the pot.

“As humans, we naturally fear what we don’t understand. And out of all of us, I’d say Pyro is the hardest to understand. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Exactly.” His eyes suddenly lit up. “You know, I used to have quite a few patients like him when I worked in the medical field. Patients who were labelled as ‘insane’. Fascinating, really. Most of them are more intelligent than we give them credit for. In fact, one time…”

As Dr. Ludwig launched into another lengthy story, Dell adjusted his sitting position, letting him talk. Long, drawn-out stories were kind of his thing, especially when it came to the ones about his days working in a hospital in Germany. He had a feeling the medic missed those times, though he definitely seemed happier than when he’d arrived. It hadn’t just been Pyro who’d grown in the four years they’d all been with RED. Dell had watched every mercenary change in some way, and mostly for the better. Medic had never been reserved, but he’d certainly become more cheerful. And eccentric, if that was even possible..

“-and that coworker never returned to work. Ah, but here I am rambling again.” Ludwig chuckled to himself and leaned down, turning off the stove.

“I suppose my point is that, yes, he’s strange...and maybe not quite as receptive as you or me...but he’s really not as unaware as one might think. He knows when people are uncomfortable, or angry with him, though he might not understand why. Like I said before, it’s fascinating.”

“Yeah…” Admittedly, Dell wasn’t listening all that closely. But as he realized Ludwig had finished his story, he tuned back in. 

“Upset because others don’t like him…” Ludwig sighed as he spooned stew into bowls. “You know, from the way he speaks about everyone, you would think he isn’t much more than a lost child looking for a family.”

Dell glanced away. He had no idea just how right he was. 

“Of course, I could always be wrong. Psychology isn’t my specialty.”

Dell opened his mouth to respond, but was intercepted by a deeper, more gravelly voice.

“Is Ludwig in here?”

As Dell turned to the entrance, Heavy stepped out of the doorway and into the room. He looked a bit awkward at first, but his stiff stance relaxed somewhat when he realized it was only Dell and Ludwig inside. It always surprised Dell when it came to how quietly the man could move considering his hulking stature; he hadn’t even noticed him until he’d announced himself.

“Over there,” Dell replied, jabbing a thumb in the direction of Ludwig. He knew that Heavy was already aware, but didn’t want to be rude. Upon being pointed out, Ludwig turned, confusion quickly melting into a smile.

“You have good timing, Misha,” He said with a small laugh. “Everything’s ready.”

Heavy nodded silently, but didn’t respond, instead trodding over to him and draping his arms across his shoulders.

“I know. It’s been a long couple of days.” Ludwig’s tone was genuine and softer than usual. Dell knew it well - it was reserved especially for Heavy. He saw Ludwig’s hand slowly intertwine with Misha’s, their embrace making the doctor look much smaller in comparison (and he wasn’t a very small man). Dell stood up from the metal chair, preparing to leave the room. Whenever they were all together like this, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding, though neither man had ever minded being affectionate in front of him. But before he could slip quietly out the door, Ludwig stopped him, stepping out from Heavy’s embrace.

“Oh! Before you go, Dell,” He reached out and picked up one of the many bowls with a small clatter. “Take this to Pyro, if you will.”

Dell hesitated, not really wanting to bother him. He was sure Pyro didn’t want to see him right now. But he took the bowl anyway, picking up a spoon from the drawer on his way out. As he left, he heard Heavy speaking to Ludwig.

“Shirt is missing, Luchik.”

“Ah, yes! About that…”

Dell didn’t realize until he was in the hallway that he wasn’t sure which room was Pyro’s, or how exactly to get to it. Well, none of their rooms were really bedrooms in the first place. Most of them were repurposed storage closets that had been turned into bedrooms after they’d arrived. Originally, there had been only one room meant for sleeping in (which had eventually been turned into Spy’s smoking room). But nobody had been too eager to share, not even Pyro. 

This base was large, which meant twisting corridors that one could easily get lost in. He knew the way to his workshop, Medic’s lab, anywhere he would actually need to be. But people’s bedrooms? He’d never needed to go to those. He might have to guess.

As he walked, he tried doors, most of which were locked. He heard loud music coming from one, and could only assume that that room was Scout’s. Not the kind of music Dell himself would listen to. He kept going.  
After a minute or two of trial and error, he found a room he’d once thought to be unoccupied. But dim light seeped out from underneath the metal door, so there must have been someone inside.

“Anyone in there?” He called, knocking lightly. There wasn’t a response. He tried again. Again, no voice came from inside the room, but this time, the door opened. Just a crack, but it was enough for Dell to come inside.

Everyone’s rooms were somewhat small. But this one, even more than the others.The source of the small amount of light was an incandescent bulb hanging from a wire on the ceiling, but it didn’t look like it had much life left in it. In the corner of the room, though, was what appeared to be a fort. Made from folding chairs, sheets, and little odds and ends. Dell crouched down, pushing aside what he thought could have been the entrance.

“Pyro? You in here, boy?” 

He was. Sitting with his legs crossed, and holding a comic book, Pyro stared at him with a miserable, but surprised look on his face. Dell bit back a frown when he saw the tear stains drying on his cheeks.

“What is it?” Pyro asked, his voice quieter than usual. Perhaps a bit raspier. “I’m busy.”

“Um,” Dell hesitated, holding out the bowl. “The doctor told me to bring this to you.”

Pyro turned his head sideways, refusing to look at him. 

“...’m not hungry.”

“But you might be later,” Dell tried to reason with him. 

“No I won’t.”

Dell sighed and placed it onto the ground, hoping to god he didn’t accidentally spill it on his way out.

“Look, I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you, honest. But I can’t stand seein’ you mad at me.”

Pyro’s forlorn expression changed somewhat, though he still looked sad, curiosity seemed to bring back a bit of light into his eye.

“You think I’m mad at you?”

Dell was a bit taken aback, though he knew he probably shouldn’t have been.

“...Well, yeah, you got all sad when…” He trailed off, not knowing if finishing that sentence was a good idea.

Pyro looked just as surprised as he did. Tears started forming in his eyes once more.

“I-I’m sorry…!” He exclaimed. Dell raised his hands in a ‘calm down’ movement.

“No, no, it’s okay. Don’t you worry.” He smiled softly, hoping to soothe Pyro before he started to cry again. “Can I come in?”

Pyro nodded, blinking away his tears as Dell sat down next to him.

“What’re you reading?” Dell asked, peeking at the comic book. It seemed fairly tame, just another superhero comic. Pyro sniffled.

“‘m just looking at the pictures…” He mumbled. “I don’t know what it says.”

Dell should have known that Pyro most likely couldn’t read. As he watched him in silence, he realized that his eyes weren’t moving along the page, but instead fixating on images and flickering from one to another. There wouldn’t have been a way to see that before, but even so it made sense for him to be unable. After all, it wasn’t like RED cared too much about his education considering his age, and besides, Soldier and Scout were next to illiterate themselves. But, still, it didn’t mean he was incapable. 

Was he really going to offer something like this? Dell usually thought things through entirely, carefully considering each and every outcome and whether the work he would be putting in was worth it. But, this time, he made up his mind in a matter of seconds.

“Do you want to?”

He blurted it out so suddenly that he even startled himself with how unlike him it was. Oh god, what had he just said? There wasn’t enough time in the day as it was. There was no way he’d be able to take on a task as daunting as teaching someone to read. There was no way it would work.

But Pyro’s eyes widened as he lifted his head up from the magazine with a newfound excitement in them. In this light, they appeared so dark. Almost black in their color. Dell didn’t usually notice, or even care about eye color. But they were impossible not to notice, especially when they held so much emotion in them.

“You mean you’ll teach me?!” The young man asked, not even trying to hide his excitement. Dell grinned. His enthusiasm really was contagious.

“It’d be a lot of hard work, but if you really want to, I can try. I ain’t the best teacher, though.”

“I can do it!” Pyro exclaimed, smiling. “I promise I’ll work really really hard!”

He’d make it work. He would find enough time to, he would face this head-on. Pyro had managed much worse. The folder of papers stuffed into his toolbox, the scars marking his body, they were proof of that. Dell could do this for him. He wanted to do this for him. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” He said gently. “But for now, you really ought to eat something. Ain’t no good learning on an empty stomach.”

Pyro nodded and reached out for the bowl, though he couldn’t quite reach. Dell, noticing the struggle, grabbed it for him and handed it to him.  
Pyro ignored the spoon in it entirely. Instead, he held the bowl in both hands, bringing it up to his mouth whenever he felt like it. Dell smiled. Table manners could come later. At least he was eating.

Come to think of it, had Pyro ever eaten in front of anyone before? He couldn’t have, at least not without removing his mask. As he thought about it, Dell recalled something. When Pyro had first joined, when he’d spent his days hidden away, Ludwig had always brought him food, hadn’t he? He could have easily just left it on the counter for him to eat when everyone else had gone to sleep. But he went out of his way to make sure he ate. Ludwig had been looking out for him far longer than Dell had.

“You’re daydreaming again,” Pyro remarked, his mouth full. Dell turned to him.

“Yeah, I guess I was,” He admitted, holding back a laugh. It looked like Pyro had gotten more food on his face than actually into his mouth. It was practically a miracle how he’d managed to keep it off of Heavy’s clothing. But Pyro seemed unaware of it, putting down the already empty bowl down onto the floor. He definitely hadn’t been hungry at all, Dell mused to himself.

“Okay, I’m done,” The younger declared. “Now can you teach me to read?”

“Woah now, hold on a second, boy.” Dell stopped him before he could get too excited. “It’s late, you’ll probably be gettin’ tired here in a few. We’ll start first thing in the morning. How about that?”

“...Promise?” Pyro lifted up his hand, only holding out his pinky. The engineer smiled and wrapped his own pinky around Pyro’s scarred, surprisingly uncalloused one. 

“It’s a promise,”


	8. It's been a while

_Hey, it’s time to wake up._

_Can you hear me? It’s time to wake up._

_No, no, don’t be scared, it’s just me. You recognize me, don’t you?_

_Good. I’m glad. I would have been sad if you didn’t. I’m sorry for startling you._

_It’s late, I know...I’m sorry, but we have to go. I’ve got the car running. Grab everything you want to keep, okay? I’ve got some plastic bags you can use._

_...I can’t tell you. But trust me, you’ll like it there. I promise._

_No, you can't stay here._

_I know, I’ll miss you too..but it’ll be better for you. You’ll be happier there._

_I’ll give you ten minutes. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh. I've been absent a while. That wasn't on purpose.  
> I...well, I kind of moved across the country. So that's been a bit tough to navigate. I think I'm at a point where I can post again though.
> 
> Edit: I forgot to mention two things.
> 
> 1\. I don't really consider this a new chapter? More like...a teaser or something. Regardless, I'm going to get to work on a proper chapter 8 as soon as I can.
> 
> 2\. I'm probably going to be changing my username. I don't know if that's important or anything when it comes to people being able to find Burn It Down, but I thought I'd mention it just in case.


End file.
